Light The Sky
by spero spiro
Summary: A sixteen-year-old Aang wakes up a century after witnessing the destruction of his people to find the war already lost and the world more desperate than ever for the return of the Avatar. AU. Eventually Aang/Katara, Sokka/Toph, Zuko/Mai
1. Chapter One

**Light The Sky**

**Note: This story is going to be a multi-chaptered monstrosity of time-consuming goodness. Needless to say, I'm really excited about it. It's the first story I've ever made notes about, and I'****m using it as an**** exercise in writing action sequences, which is something I've avoided up to this point out of lack of practice. Hopefully, they'll develop well as the story and plot do. ****This first chapter is enormous. I'm going to shoot for all my following chapters to be just as long, but I can't make any guarantees. It's important to note that this story is not an Alternate Universe, but an alternate timeline. This is my version of events, had Sozin's comet come four years later than it did, and then again ninety-six years later (once exactly every century is too convenient, and I like it this way better). All the characters will be older, and a little different on the surface of things. They are all essentially the same people, they've just had some very different experiences than they have had in the show, due to the change in the timeline (i.e.: Aang has already been ordained as a full monk by the time he is forced to leave the temple, under circumstances to be revealed later, and Sokka has had to fight a lost war against the Fire Nation.) These things have changed their view of the world, and the simple difference in their ages will have a profound effect on their behavior. Please enjoy this story as I have enjoyed writing it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender. I never have, I never will, and I am A-OK with that. Please don't sue. This disclaimer extends for all chapters of this story.**

**Description:**** Alternate Timeline: Aang wakes up one hundred years after the fall of the Air Temples on his sixteenth birthday to find the world completely under the control of the Fire Nation and more desperate than ever for the return of the Avatar. AangKatara. SokkaToph. ZukoMai.**

**Chapter One**

The twilight horizon was getting old, as far as Sokka was concerned. He had his boomerang tucked into his boot, and he tugged his parka tighter around himself, the wind picking up as the afternoon faded into evening. It had been the twilight before full night for over a week, and the sun was still sinking down the horizon. He trudged through the snow, and he stared at the sky for a moment. The sky was darkening with clouds, which meant there was going to be another snowstorm that night, and he groaned at his drafty tent and the idea of spending yet another night huddled under sparse furs and freezing as the icy winds found their way into his tent and drove sharp daggers of frozen wind at him every time he shifted.

He closed his eyes, gripping the fishing spear in his hand tighter as he strode past the guard tower without regard to the soldiers standing guard. He knew that they were freezing too, but they, at least, had fire-bending to keep _them_ warm at night.

"Hey, you there!" The guard had decided to notice him. "What are you doing? It's almost after curfew!"

Sokka turned, keeping his head high. "I'm on official business from my father, Chief Hakoda." He responded simply, turning and continuing to stride forward. That was, of course, a lie. His father hadn't sent him on any business, and hadn't even really talked to his son in weeks, but the guards didn't know that, and were probably more afraid of the Water Tribe warriors than they cared to admit. Despite their victory, the Fire Nation soldiers had suffered heavy casualties at the hands of the Water Tribes, and they had not forgotten the ways a boomerang and a spear could cause pain and death.

The guards decided that they didn't really care what the chief's son did out in the cold night, and stepped back into the post, already shivering violently.

Sokka didn't really know what he was doing, except wandering, thinking, and perhaps looking to fish a little for dinner. There weren't really enough men left in the village to go seal hunting, and it would be ridiculous to go on his own when he could barely see in the _gray_ that smothered his senses.

He hopped across the ice, avoiding spots he could, from experience, tell were thin and unsafe. He finally found a small iceberg bound tightly in the tundra, where he drove in his spear and perched himself, staring idly at the seemingly eternal sunset.

For as long as he, and anyone else he had ever met, had been alive, there had been the war. Four years previously, the Fire Nation ended the war once and for all, conquering the last strongholds of the free world, Ba Sing Se and the North Pole, in brilliant tactical form, with the help of a certain comet, and the South Pole fell gracelessly to yet another Fire Nation navy.

He slumped back against the iceberg. How had things gotten so bad? How had the people a century before managed to ignore the signs that the Fire Nation was becoming unbalanced, so that when the comet came, they _could_ eliminate the air benders and spend the next hundred years attempting to do similar things to the rest of the world? Surely, someone had seen the signs. Surely… surely, the Fire Nation had not been unstoppable in the early days of their conquest.

Sokka brushed stray hairs out of his face, and his fingers brushed the scar tissue memory of his tribe's defeat, and subsequent scrambling of his previous life. No one talked about those days anymore, and no one talked about blame anymore, either. In fact, no one talked about a lot of things anymore. There were no whispers of freedom, of rebellion, or even of just trying to break free of this world, if they couldn't get away from the Fire Nation.

He closed his eyes, and tried to imagine the world without the war. He found that he couldn't. He could barely recall his life before the Fire Nation showed up and ruthlessly conquered his people. So many died… And those who didn't die, those who were captured, were thought to be worse off than the dead. His breath shook at the thought, thinking of the sacrifice his father had to make as chief. _If only it had been someone else…_ Sokka bemoaned in his head. Many people talked about envying the dead their freedom from the war-torn, weary, and ragged world, and no one talked about the people who were suddenly, and painfully, missing from their village.

Something caught his attention, and his eyes snapped open, instincts flaring up and warning him of _something_. His immediate reaction was to assume it was Fire Nation soldiers, coming to warn him that he was about to miss curfew again, and tell him that they would surely punish him this time. Sokka was sure he could handle anything they dished out, and he peered down the side of the iceberg and realized with a sinking heart that he almost wished it was a Fire Nation soldier prowling the perimeter of the block of ice. He snatched his spear from the ice and took a careful path down to the bottom, circling carefully around the walrus-bear, which had set its sights on him.

The bear growled.

Sokka tightened his grip on the spear, fairly certain for once that his weapon was going to do him no good. He slowly reached down and pulled out his boomerang. It was probably best to stay far, far away from the enormous creature. He wasn't really afraid, but adrenaline was pumping into his veins, warning him of danger and death and pleading for him to just survive. Sokka was a good survivor.

He reached back and flung the boomerang, and cursed loudly when it barely shaved off a few whiskers, gripping the spear tighter than ever. The walrus-bear charged, claws sharp and poised to rip him apart. Sokka slipped into a defensive stance and jabbed the spear forward just when the bear was near enough for it to slide into its gut. He cringed when he realized he had punctured the beast's stomach, and that it was potent acid melting the ice and the bear's other meal for the day. It roared in horrible agony, and he felt a twinge of remorse that he would have to kill a beast that would have not thought even twice about doing the same to him.

The bear charged, bleeding into its matted coat, and swiped twice, knocking Sokka backward, and then down to the ground. He closed his eyes, hoping his death would not be painful as he imagined being mauled by a walrus-bear would be. The first swipe tore his armor from his chest, and a gaping, bleeding wound opened on his abdomen. Sokka gasped in pain, his breathing coming short. He fumbled for the spear, which had skidded away from him, and rolled out of the way of another swipe at him. An involuntary moan of pain escaped from him as he tried to breathe, holding the spear and fighting the urge to gag from the _smell_.

There was a swishing noise of his boomerang returning to him, and he wondered what good it would do now that he could barely support himself, let alone throw the boomerang again with any accuracy. He heard a loud crunch, as the boomerang collided with the iceberg, becoming deeply embedded in the ice. He cursed again, wishing _someone_ from the village would notice he was missing and come looking for him in the tundra. He touched his wound, staring at the walrus-bear with a challenge in his eye.

A loud cracking startled both him and the bear, and their stalemate was put aside, as the iceberg began to crack apart. Sokka backed away slowly, knowing well that icebergs didn't simply disintegrate when hit with a puny boomerang. The bear sniffed, and Sokka could see that its chest was heaving in pain. He faced the iceberg, and was stunned to discover that deep cracks had formed in the surface of the ice, from which a blinding light was emitted. Sokka shaded his eyes and fell backwards as the ice split open with a crash. _A bomb_, he thought. _I set off a Fire Nation bomb inside the ice…_ He held up his hands to protect from the following burst of heat and pressure, but was caught instead in a warm gale and a storm of shattered ice, which fell, some as snow, some as deadly projectiles, to the ground around him.

The brilliant light which had flooded the horizon and blinded him, faded slowly, after extending across the area. The walrus-bear was dragging itself away from the site, and Sokka knew it would die slowly and painfully somewhere in the wilderness. The thought made him sad, and it reminded him of the people who had been taken away from the tribe. He seized his spear, his mind settling on confusion. If it hadn't been a bomb in the ice, what had caused the explosion? He pushed himself up on the spear and stumbled toward the iceberg in time to see the form of a teenager tumble forward out of the remaining ice, barely conscious.

Sokka cried out in surprise, hobbling faster, with his spear as a walking stick, but could do nothing more than watch the crumpled form of the younger man crunch uncomfortably on the snow. He was wearing an unseasonal robe that didn't look like anything Sokka had ever seen. The saffron fabric was tailored for him, and stained with fresh, red smears. He tossed his spear aside to check for any injuries, and was horrified to discover that not only were there long, shiny burns that were only starting to blister, but there was intricate cuts littered all over the boy's body that appeared to be fresh. Some were still bleeding and oozing blood. Rusty smears were all over his body, not only on the bloody designs on his back, but across his tattooed head, arms, and face.

With a sickening twist of his stomach, Sokka recognized the patterns to be those of _human _hands. He fought the urge to vomit again, with the faint notion that he knew exactly how this man had sustained injuries like these, and the idea that other Water Tribe members were being subjected to it… He swallowed some bile back into his throat, checking the man's vitals.

At this, the man began to stir. He choked, as though he had been drowning, and gasped for air, his breaths initially short and shallow, but growing until he could fill his lungs slowly and steadily. His eyes opened slowly, blinking slowly, as though he was not expecting the environment he was in. He was starting to shiver, and Sokka checked the temperature of his forehead. Even though he was shivering, his body was burning with some sort of inner fire that burned Sokka when he touched him.

"What the hell…" He muttered, pulling the man into a sitting position, carefully avoiding both wounds and bare skin. The man coughed again, blinking silently at Sokka. Sokka stared at him, feeling a little suspicious by the look of the man now he was awake. "Who are you?"

He pushed himself with great effort, but didn't seem to either notice or care about his injuries. He looked more weary, as though he had been on a long journey, than injured, and shook the snow and ice from his robes. He looked at Sokka evenly, fixing slate gray eyes onto the bright blue of the Water Tribe warrior and stumbled a little, catching himself on the icy mound next to them. "Where is this?" He asked hoarsely. "I don't know where we are." Deduction told him that he was probably near, or at, one of the poles, but there was no way to tell for sure either way.

_That_, Sokka decided, was strange. "You're near the Water Tribe's settlement on the South Pole. What do you mean you don't know where you are?" He heaved his spear out of the ice and held it defensively in front of him. "We're miles from anything other than my village. At least three days travel from any other settlements." He pushed the spear to the man's robe, pushing at the fabric. "Your wounds are new." Sokka paused, considering what that might mean. "Was there a Fire Nation attack? Near here? There's not supposed to be any more conflicts, unless… you stirred it up." He prodded him again.

The man pulled his sleeves down over the cuts on his arms, his eyes sharp. "No, you're right. There shouldn't have been any fighting." It was obvious to both of them that he was agitated, and he took a deep breath of arctic air before offering a short bow. "My name is Aang." He didn't seem to notice that several of his cuts had split wide open and were pouring blood again.

Sokka stared at him and lowered his spear a little. "My name is Sokka…" He gave Aang a sweeping glance, from his boots to the top of his bald head. He was starting to get the impression that Aang was younger than he was, despite his calm and mature demeanor. "Where did you get those wounds? You're not from around here, are you? Why were you fighting the Fire Nation? You could get my people killed if you revolt." Sokka's voice was cold and rang out across the snow.

Aang stared at him stonily, patiently, before responding. "No, I'm not from the Water Tribe…" He seemed to be pondering, and finally lowered himself weakly onto the ground. He finally looked up at Sokka, eyes clearing from the fog that had previously clouded them. "Why was the Fire Nation attacking the Water Tribe?" He had come to the conclusion on his own that it would take some kind of conflict to impose rule… Sokka's words: _could get my people killed if you revolt_. Revolt. Revolution. It meant something had happened in the span of a few days that had radically changed the world order. Last he had checked, the Southern Water Tribe was among the fiercest group of warriors and benders in the world.

"What is today?" He asked quietly. How long had he been unconscious? A few hours? A few weeks? Had the monks been more out of touch with the world than they had thought? A gut feeling inside Aang told him they would not have been.

"Southern Winter, Second Moon, Fourteenth Sun." Sokka responded mechanically, hardly abandoning his position of holding Aang hostage so long as he appeared to be some sort of threat. "Three-hundred third year of the Fifth Age."

Aang took a moment to consider the Water Tribe calendar and what he knew of it, converting that time into the time of his people. After a moment, the wrinkles on his forehead deepened. "Impossible." He clenched his fists, fear and fury rising in his heart. "You're lying." He started feeling out the icy winds, and the gales around them were picking up.

Sokka felt his anticipation growing, and began to consider where the young man had really come from. He didn't seem to be Fire Nation, nor did he appear to be from the Earth Kingdom… He had already ruled himself of the Water Tribe. "I'm not lying." He lowered his spear. "When do you think it is?"

Aang brushed off his robes, coming across one of his burns. He didn't seem to notice or care about the cuts, only the burns. He frowned at them and didn't answer Sokka's question. "The South Pole, you said?" He brushed himself off, pulling a sleeve down over his burns and leaping easily onto the tip of the broken iceberg and looking down. "I suppose it'll take me a day or so to get home." He sounded desolate and fearful deep under his muttering.

"To get where? I told you, there's nothing for three day's travel!" Sokka yelled up to him.

Aang seemed to be ignoring him, leaping back into the pit of the hollow iceberg. He nudged the large, sleeping beast that was slumbering silently in the curve of the ice. "Appa… Hey, Appa, I need you to wake up… We have to get back. Something's wrong…" He was silently trying to convince himself that he had miscalculated the conversion of the Water Tribe calendar. He groaned suddenly, pain from _everywhere_ flooding his senses, and slumped against the bison's horn.

Sokka scrambled to the top, trying not to think about the sharp pains in his abdomen. He gasped at the sight of the giant bison, waking slowly under Aang's careful eye. "What is that thing?"

Aang turned and looked at him with a cocked eyebrow. "An air bison." He responded coolly, touching the ice wall he could reach from his position. "_My_ air bison."

The impossible truth clunked into place in Sokka's head. "You can't be an air bender. All the air benders have been dead for a hundred years."

Aang closed his eyes, praying this was all just an awful dream he was having, and when he woke, he could go back and… and… He cringed a little. "I'm not dead." He assured both Sokka and himself. If what this man was saying was true… and he was really awake… How had he slept for nearly _a hundred years_? A whole century of… Aang couldn't bear to think of it. Everything was so confusing, and it was all he could do to try and keep his composure. He didn't know all the facts. He didn't even really know what was going on at all.

"You're not an air bender."

Aang felt the overwhelming urge to do _something_ to prove the warrior wrong. "Look, I'm in a hurry. I had to go at a really inopportune time. I'm sure things have happened that I need to take care of." He nudged Appa again, and the bison was awake. He began rearranging the reins around the bison's horns and leaped onto his back. "Come on, Appa."

Sokka was skeptical. This kid was either crazy, or… Well, the only explanation was that he was crazy. "Look, kid, you're covered in burns and cuts and everything else… Even if the cold's gotten to your head, you need to get some treatment. Those cuts look really nasty." He tried to stay even. "The Fire Nation did a number on you."

Aang frowned. "The Fire Nation didn't give me my markings." He looked at the bloody marks on his arm with something like pride.

Even though he wasn't sure he trusted the man or even liked him very much, Sokka was not ready to let him simply fly off in the state he was in, given that it had been fire benders who had injured him in some way. He shrugged nonchalantly, reaching over and picking up his boomerang, pretending he was about to put it away. The air bender mumbled something, and the bison appeared to be getting to his feet, the ice shell they had been protected by falling to pieces. Sokka acted swiftly, throwing his boomerang and clocking the man on the side of the head. He easily caught the boomerang and pushed it back into his boot.

He walked up to the fallen boy and, giving the great beast a cautious glance, picked him up with a heave and a grimace at his abdomen. That would have to be fixed, too. He couldn't well take him back to the village, seeing as the Fire Nation guards knew he had left alone, and any outsiders were likely to be questioned. He had to find a way to shield the young man from the elements and heal his wounds. This idea made him frown. If he were talented with water bending, as his sister was, Sokka wouldn't think twice about making some sort of ice tent for him. It would insulate him well, and could be easily hidden. But Katara wasn't at the South Pole anymore, and the few water benders left there were young children who had just begun to show signs of their skills.

He looked up at the giant bison. "Well, do you have any ideas?" On top of all his other problems, it was finally beginning to snow. Given his lack of any further ideas, he resigned himself to waiting the few hours it would take to sneak the other man back into the village. Or he would have to sneak in another way, where there were no guard towers or soldiers. Then, there was the bison.

"Even if I take him with me, I can't hide you in my tent." He pointed out simply, as though the bison could understand him and needed to give him permission to take off with his owner. "And he really needs treatment."

The bison rumbled a response, and headed to lie under an ice formation.

"I guess it's okay, then?" Sokka called back. Well, if the ten-ton bison wasn't planning on stomping him, he would be on his way. He didn't know what time it was, but guessed that he had been gone long enough for the guards to be drowsy and uncaring about a rogue peasant (prince, he reminded himself half-heartedly) wandering in after curfew. They might be more interested in the man he was carrying, especially if he had stirred up trouble lately, but Sokka was curious as to what secrets he held, and wanted to see to it that he learned those secrets for his own use. He slung the teenager over his shoulder and headed back toward the village, hoping that the guards wouldn't be terribly observant of someone approaching from the side.

When he finally arrived, spending his time struggling under the weight of a grown man (who was shorter than he, but surprisingly more muscular, despite his lean appearance), the growing pain in his side, and contemplating both his dilemma concerning allowing a stranger into his village, and the evidence of a battle with Fire Nation soldiers he had obviously won, or at least managed to escape with his freedom. The intricate cuts were obviously torturous, be he had pretended they didn't exist, and claimed they didn't come from Fire Nation soldiers. There was no reason for him to have those and yet deny that they had come from the Fire Nation, unless he was somehow ashamed of them… unless he was Fire Nation. But that somehow didn't fit. For a fleeting instant, he wondered if he had been truthful in claiming he was an air nomad. But that was ridiculous; preposterous.

He slipped awkwardly between tents, ducking into his own without being spotted. He lowered his load onto his bed, and the teenager was stirring again. Sokka left the tent again with a giant earthenware bowl his sister had carved for him once. He tried to push thoughts of Katara out of his mind for the moment. Deep down, something was itching at him, telling him that this stranger was important for him. He hoped that he would be able to tell him a weakness, something, of the Fire Nation. Deep down, he hoped, though it was impossible, the teenager could help him rescue his sister.

He ducked between his tent and another and scooped snow into the bowl, heaping it full and covering it with a cloth. Just then, the patrol guard passed by him.

"Hey, you!" Sokka stood, keeping the bowl of snow close to him. "What are you doing out here?"

Sokka stared at him evenly, and then held up the bowl. "Getting snow to melt for some water." He started back to the tent, ignoring the guards mumbling as he hurried him along. Sokka opened the tent flap in time to be blown back out by a blast of air, the bowl flying out of his arms and crashing against the ground. He cursed, fumbling for the bowl, and picked it up. He stood ready for anything, and the stranger came out of the tent, looking visibly angry.

"Go back into the tent!" Sokka hissed as he came toward him.

"What were you thinking in bringing me here?" Aang rumbled, suddenly looking more frantic than angry. "I told you, I need to go somewhere. I need to look for someone." He really meant a lot of someone's, but he was desperate to know what had happened to his people, his teacher, and his friends.

Sokka clutched the bowl tightly. "And I'm telling you that you're crazy, and you need to be treated, and there's no way I'm going to let you waltz off into the night and bring all kinds of pain and suffering to my people." His eyes narrowed. "I don't know who you are, or if you really are an air bender, but either way, you can't go anywhere looking like that."

Aang raised his hands again, intending to blow Sokka back again, but was suddenly surprised when Sokka reached back and punched him, following up the blow with a crack across the side of his head with the bowl. He refilled the bowl, then reached down and dragged him back into the tent, shoving him back onto the bed. "I told you to stay here. I didn't want to have to treat any more wounds than I had to. My sister was the one who was good at that sort of thing." He took off his parka and sat down next to the younger teen, taking the bowl of snow into his lap.

Aang shot him a dirty look, gingerly touching his sore cheek. "Then where is she?"

Sokka didn't respond immediately, tugging off his mittens. "We can talk about that in a minute. Take off your shirt." Aang grudgingly complied, pulling his robes off entirely to reveal the pants and boots underneath.

Sokka sat cross-legged behind him and pressed the handful of snow he was holding against the wounds on Aang's back. "This is supposed to help… It's no replacement for water healing, but…" He pressed it in further, but Aang didn't respond if it hurt.

"Thanks." He mumbled.

"If the Fire Nation didn't give you these wounds, what did?" Sokka moved to another section of angry red cuts.

Aang sighed, ultimately deciding exactly what he could tell this man. "It's a long story."

"Are you really an air bender?"

Sigh. "Yes." He twirled a finger, a small twister forming on the tip.

Sokka was impressed and paused his treatment for a moment to pick up more snow and stare. "That's really amazing…" He paused, contemplating. "You're the only air bender I've ever seen. I'm pretty sure no one's seen one for almost a century." He pressed some snow onto Aang's shoulder.

Aang frowned again. "Well, what happened to them all then?" There was a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him that he knew exactly what had happened to them all. Guilt washed over him and he thought for a moment he might throw up.

They were humoring one another, and Sokka was perfectly aware of that. He played along anyway. "Everyone knows they were wiped out by the Fire Nation at the beginning of the war. They started with small colonies, and then this comet came. They were unstoppable, and they wiped out the air nomads. That's where the last Avatar was known to be. He's probably dead by now…"

Aang was silent for a long time, quietly allowing Sokka to treat his wounds.

"Where did you come from?"

He looked up from the hole he was staring into the floor. "The Southern Air Temple." He told him quietly, looking back at the floor. "I don't know what's going on… I wanted to go back, and I want to believe this is just a dream, but…"

"There's no one at the Southern Air Temple. You're lying."

Aang looked up again, his forehead wrinkled. "The last time I was _home_, there were hundreds of monks, and lemurs, and bison… They wouldn't have died that easily." It was desperate, but he was starting to understand. "At least… A hundred years ago, I suppose, they wouldn't."

"You don't look a hundred."

"I'm not."

"Then you're lying."

"I'm not going to argue with you." Aang recalled the shock of being punched by the Water Tribe stranger, and there was a long silence while Sokka grappled with the idea of Aang being an air bender from a century before.

Granted, it was not likely he could live that long and look so young… It was also not likely he could air bend without a teacher, when all of them were dead and there were no air bender children to grow up and multiply. Sokka didn't understand a lot of things in the world, and there were a lot of supernatural things, and miracles, and divine interventions that he just didn't question.

"Did you know him?"

"Who?" He sounded surprised after another long silence.

"The Avatar. Did you know him?"

"I thought you didn't believe me."

"I don't know what I believe, okay?" Sokka sighed. "There haven't been any air benders since the war started, but you can clearly bend air. People don't live to be over a hundred and look as young as you do, but here you are. I don't know _what_ to believe. There's not much room for hope these days, but… I can't just let go of it." He pressed the last of the snow to Aang's arms, then took some torn fabric and tied it around them as a makeshift bandage.

Aang folded his arms and sat complacently in a position of meditation. "I don't know what happened, really. I left the temple, and… something happened. Then I woke up out there."

Sokka raised an eyebrow. "Then how do you account for all these?" He prodded one of the burns.

Brushing his hand away, Aang stood up slowly. "I told you, it's a long story."

"Not like I haven't got a while." Sokka sat down next to the fire, warming his hands, then took some extra fabric and wrapped it around his abdomen. The walrus-bear gouges weren't very deep, and were probably more painful than serious. "And, if what you're saying is true, then I'm sure you want to know what's going on here." He motioned to the other side of the fire. "Sit down."

He sat down, holding out his hands for warmth, the blue of his tattoos glowing eerily in the dim light while his eyes got lost in the depths of the fire. "I was born and raised in the Southern Air Temple as an air monk, and the Fire Nation attacked us on my sixteenth birthday."

**End Chapter One**


	2. Chapter Two

**Light t****he Sky**

**Note:**** This chapter has a lot of explanations for the timeline in which the story takes place. It doesn't explain all the secrets I have up my sleeve, but it does explain (at least to the reader) why things are the way they are. There's a lot of flashbacks in this chapter (which will be italicized), and interactions between Aang and Sokka. Please, please remember that this story will eventually be the pairings promised, but I am thoroughly determined to do this thing right and build up to it properly. Other characters will be introduced as they are encountered by Aang and Sokka, though there will be mentions of important characters (such as Katara, Zuko, etc) in flashbacks. Please, don't ask when Katara will be introduced. I can promise it will be a few chapters, given her circumstances (which will be partially revealed in this chapter), and since much of this story has been written already, it will simply take time and patience. The story itself, though, should satisfy while you wait for it to really develop.**

**Description: Alternate Timeline: Aang wakes up one hundred years after the fall of the Air Temples on his sixteenth birthday to find the world completely under the control of the Fire Nation and more desperate than ever for the return of the Avatar. ****AangKatara****SokkaToph****ZukoMai**

**Chapter Two**

"The Fire Nation came to the Air Temple on my sixteenth birthday… The day air nomads are finally raised out of their apprenticeship and elevated to full monks." Aang explained carefully, gazing into the fire. It was summoning memories that felt so fresh to him, but he knew they couldn't be. He knew, in his heart and soul, that it had truly been a century since he had left the temple.

His soul had been calling out for the other air benders since he had woken, and still, he felt nothing, despite the fact that his soul and theirs had all been so tightly interwoven. He felt like a boat set adrift onto the ocean, floating away and disappearing under tides, lonely and unreachable. "They came with the power of a comet…" He closed his eyes and shook his head. "It made them so powerful."

Sokka nodded, realizing that Aang's story was eerily similar to his own, but allowed him to keep going. "They drew on the power of a comet to finish their conquest of the world." He sounded bitter.

"They came just when I had finished the ceremony…"

_Morning prayers were solemn, as usual, but there was an underlying vein of adrenaline and excitement. A new brother was being initiated among them that day, the day of his coming of age, and the anniversary of Avatar __Roku's__ death. The Avatar would be announced to the world on that day, though the boy had known for years exactly who he was and what his destiny was. Given the disturbances of the world in recent years, they had thought it prudent to inform him of exactly how urgent it was for him to further continue his mastery of air bending and over __himself.__ Even with the excitement of the revealing of the Avatar, and his ascension from apprentice-hood, there were murmurs and concerns for the future. The monks who watched the heavens warned of some kind of cosmic phenomenon which appeared to be causing imbalance in the world, especially in the already unbalanced Fire Nation. They warned that the miserably hot weather foretold of something worse lying in wait for the monks, but most were too concerned with the excitement of their Avatar to be truly concerned or worried about misfortune when the greatest fortune had fallen upon their people in turn._

_The subject of their excitement was kneeling, wrapped in a solid white tunic, amongst them. __The blue tattoos he had earned nearly five years before, at an unprecedented age, were stark in contrast to his pale skin and paler clothing. __Aang was nervous, but he felt more ready than he had ever in his entire life. It was a nervous excitement that was pumping in every beat of his heart. Finally, after the entire group rose and fell in unison for their morning sun salutation, the elder of the temple lowered his hands and addressed the group. _

_"Today, we welcome another to our brotherhood." He looked at Aang, who remained still in his meditative position, eyes closed and humbled. "Avatar Aang has grown under our tutelage, and now, upon his coming of age, __he joins us as an equal and no longer our apprentice. Aang, please come forward to me." _

_Aang lowered his hands and came forward, keeping his excit__ement quelled. He stayed silent__ because he was sure it was the best thing to do. None of the monks had prepared him for that day. _

_The Elder handed him a small and sharp knife. "Today, we cleanse you of the sins of the world, so you may ascend to the very heights of spiritual understanding and strength. You make the first cut, and take the first step to cleansing yourself." He handed the dagger to Aang, who took it readily and held out his left arm, clenching the knife in his right hand. _

_"I bleed out the suffering of this world, that I may understand the next." He was careful and quick, etching the et__ernal symbol of the Avatar onto the back of his hand where the arrow pointed. "May these hands be cleansed and do their work with strength and justice." He didn't quite know where the words had come from, or even why he chose to use the symbol of the Avatar as his contribution to his cleansing. In the end, however, it made sense for him. It was his personal identity, and the monks seemed to accept this. He__ repeated the same motion for his right hand, gave__ the knife back to the Elder__ and prostrated himself at his feet, back arched and arms stretched forward. _

_"May the brothers come forward and give their blessings to this, our new brother." He kneeled and etched the symbol of the Air nomads onto the back of __Aang'__s__ neck, passing the knife off to another one of the brothers, who continued the pattern, telling tales and truths in the symbols he and all the others carved into the flesh of the new monk. They whispered encouragem__ent and wisdom to him as he lay__ motionless and unresponsive__ to the pain__, as they chanted the traditions of the air nomads_

_"I bleed out the greed of this world__, that you may understand and accept those who fall victim to its clutches__."_

_"__I bleed out the pride of the world, that you may never be caught in its tangled webs and rescue those who have been."_

_"I bleed out the ugly lusts of the world, that you may be enlightened on the divine light and grace of pure love."_

_"I bleed out the jealousies of the world, that you may recognize what is truly necessary and never stray from your divine path."_

_"I bleed out the idleness of the world, that you may never falter or hesitate and rescue those who have fallen to its cruel clutches."_

_"I bleed out the wrath and the evils of the __world, that__ you may never be hurt by its touch and you may spread that strength to others around you."_

_Finally, when his arms, legs, and back was littered with the intricate symbols that would heal into scars of which he would wear with pride, the Elder took the knife and cut the cord on __Aang'__s__ tunic, which was staining__ crimson with his blood. He and the other monks lifted him and lay him out on the raised stone bench which faced the rising sun._

_"To the world, we give our new brother, the Avatar.__" The Elder announced, approaching Aang as he lay motionless and meditative on the stone slab. "Aang, you will meditate here on the sins of the world you are bleeding out. We will be here with you, reflecting on these same sins__, and offering you our own strengths to build yours. You will attend a journey much greater than any of ours have been, and we offer you our strength to lead you."_

_He didn't move for what felt like an eternity, feeling the blood slip in streams down his body and pool underneath him. Finally, the Elder and Gyatso approached him, lifting his weighted body from the slab. Cool cloths mopped up the excess blood that his tunic, now dripping in red blood, had not collected, and though the cuts were starting to congeal, it was obvious they would bleed more before they were completely healed. __They helped remove the bloody tunic and washed away the rusty stai__ns on his pale skin. Then, they helped him dress in a new set of underclothes, followed by a pair of pants and boots. Still supporting his weakened form, they brought him a saffron robe that had been made for him. He supported himself, despite his blood loss, so that he could pull the robe on for himself. _

_Gyatso supported him again, though the elderly man's figure would have suggested he would be too weak to support Aang. "Congratulations, Aang." He told him, helping him take a few steps toward __the door, where the remaining residents of the temple, including the young apprentices Aang had just been elevated out of, were waiting patiently for the outcome of his ascension._

_A small group of awkward looking apprentices stopped dead and cheered at the sight of Aang__ and the robe he was wearing__, who smiled a little for them, barely keeping himself standing and steady. _

_"Teachers, students, and brothers of our temple," The Elder announced from his left side. "__Our brother, Aang, has ascended from his apprenticeship in our temple." He paused a moment for the atmosphere to clear a bit. "And, t__o you, first in the world, we present Avatar Aang, brother of our people."_

_A collective gasp ran through the group. Though Aang had been told of his destiny several years before, for precautionary reasons, __it was evident that many of the __temple__, including the apprentices a__nd many of the brothers who did not participate in spiritual ritual__, had__ not been told. _

_Though he was already very weary, the look of shock on the faces of everyone in the room who was not already aware was clear, even as he tried to maintain his composure. Slowly, everyone in the room lowered to their knees and bowed respectfully to him. Aang frowned, wishing they would just stand up and acknowledge that he was still Aang. He bowed to them in return, keeping his humility in his embarrassment. _

_Very suddenly, in a moment of cosmic irony, one of the watch-brethren burst into the chamber, panting._

_"The Fire Nation… they've sent soldiers… they're here!" He tried to catch his breath and warn the rest of the group. "I've never seen fire bending like this!"_

_Several monks looked at one another, and chaos broke out in the hall. One of the Air Masters called the younger apprentices to his side and herded the youths into a secret chamber where they hoped to find safety. There was a flash of fire outside, and a few yells that followed. The Elder stood from his bow calmly, and calmly spoke to several of the other monks. Aang could barely hear anything through the fuzz in his ears._

_"…messenger… sister… warn…"_

_Ignoring the dull aches all over his body, Aang sprang forward, not looking for any guidance or instruction. He was certain something had been infused with the water used to cleanse his wounds to prevent infections of any kind, and that had helped to numb what should have still been sharp and stinging pain__, but his head was still spinning from blood loss__. He was the Avatar. He had had years to come to terms with his destiny, and now it seemed he was being tested, on the sixteenth anniversary of Avatar __Roku's__ death and his__ subsequent__ birth. _

_A shot of fire shot just past him and he barely had enough time to react and dodge it. The heat from the flames caught him, and he was surprised to find that the previously stifling air was now bearable, though it was heating with every passing instant. He flipped out a window and landed smoothly on his feet between one of the other monks and a group of fire benders. He wished he hadn't left his glider in __Appa's__ saddle, but made use of his own hands as instruments of his __bending and blew the fire benders back against a statue of a past Elder. __They __recovered quickly and two sent enormous blasts of fire at him. He spun quickly, deflecting the fire back toward them, and they screamed at the heat of their own bending, scrambling to bend it away from them. He seized he opportunity to send sharp blasts of air toward them, blasting them back further and shredding the outer layers of their armor. _

_He rushed past them to find one of the older monks, perhaps ten to f__ifteen years his senior, propped__ against a statue, his burns oozing blood and something Aang did not care to think about. He moaned loudly, and Aang found the moment to issue departing prayers to him, embracing what was his new brother as he exhaled his life and soul into the world. Aang closed his eyes and prayed briefly, feeling a surge of anger and pain welling up inside him. _

_A hot burning filled his stomach, spreading to his limbs and the rest of his body as he rose above the ground, tattoos glowing brightly. The sudden grasp at his hand from Gyatso jarred him back from passing into the Avatar State._

_"No, Aang!" He called to him, tugging the teenager into the safe protection of another statue. "Aang, you must leave here."_

_Aang looked stupefied. "Leave? I have to help defend the temple!"_

_Gyatso shook his head slowly, and sadly. "Not today, Aang. Today, you must leave. You have a much greater destiny than staying behind and fighting a lost battle."_

_"It's not over __yet…__"__ He tried to stay calm__ but shook__ violently__, his voice rising slowly__. "The battle isn'__t lost yet!__"_

_The older monk squeezed his shoulder. "Aang, you are intended for a much different destiny." _

_At that moment, another monk whom Aang recognized as one of his friends who had recently also been elevated from his apprenticeship skidded to a stop upon seeing them. __"Aang!"__ He cried, embracing his friend in relief. "I mean… Avatar…" He stepped back and bowed reverently. "Everyone's so worried about you… They… Well, you just disappeared… We thought…" He trailed off, looking foolish. "I'm so glad you're alright, Avatar."_

_Aang felt something drop out of the bottom of his stomach. He didn't think he could hate those words so much. "I'm alright, __Kalii__." He assured him. "I want to fight for the temple…"_

_Gyatso interjected without hesitation. "But every__one,__ even you__ Aang,__ knows__ that you cannot stay. We were not truly as prepared as we ought to have been. __We cannot let anything happen to you, when it is not only our temple __that__ will need you."_

_Aang clenched his fists. "They won't believe I'm gone… They have to know I left, otherwise…"_

_Kalii__ looked thoughtful, __then__ grabbed __Aang's__ shoulder. __"__I'll help you. Get your bison and leave. I'll pretend to be you. They don't know what one air bender looks like from another, let alone what the Avatar would look like."_

_Aang shook his head, slowly at first, and then more violently as he considered the repercussions of __Kalii__'s__ idea.__ "No. I won't let anyone else take responsibility for this for me."_

_"The world will need you to live, Aang." Gyatso touched his shoulder gently, meaning to give him encouragement._

_"And you all will need me here." The answer was so simple, why didn't anyone else see it the way he did?_

_Kalii__ stared at the ground. "I know everything would have been different if this hadn't happened today… Everyone knowing you're the Avatar now. I know you still don't think you're any different than the rest of us… But you are. You can't escape that, no matter how hard you fight or how far you run." _

_Aang grappled with the statement, and found that he felt petulant and angry. He tried to subdue the feelings of anger at knowing that he really was different. There was no way he could have simply been treated like a regular air monk when he was born to be so much more. He understood the magnitude of the destiny he had been granted, and, worse, that it was that same destiny which was dragging him away from his home and his brothers. _

_"I'll go…" He mumbled, grudgingly. _

_Kalii__ straightened his robes, and nodded. "Go get Appa and try to escape without them noticing. Wait for a signal. You'll know it. I'll distract them in the Hall so you can make a clean escape." He embraced Aang briefly and disappeared amongst the fray, leaving nothing but a hot, angry hole in the bottom of __Aang's__ stomach._

_Gyatso gave him a fatherly embrace, smiling faintly with his wrinkled eyes. "Be brave, Aang. No one will blame you for having to do this… Be brave, and have faith in yourself. What happens here will happen, and you must promise not to turn back. There are greater things at stake."_

_Aang nodded slowly and solemnly, the weight of a whole world descending onto his shoulders. "I won't… I…" He looked away, shame burning at him. His first act as the Avatar was going to be to retreat and hide away, while his people, his family, would die for his sake. "I'm so sorry…" _

_"Don't be. Go!" Aang took a final look at his __mentor,__ then hurried through the hidden hallways to where the bison would be resting__ under normal circumstances_

_He darted into a storage room and seized his travel bag, staf__f, and a set of reins for Appa. The bison was easy to find, slightly smaller than the others,__ and Appa was among the others who __were panicked and roaring at the disturbances in the temple. Aang reached Appa and swiftly attached the reins and bag. _

_"I'll meet you a few miles away, at that big mountaintop we used to go to all the time." He hugged the bison for comfort and reassurance, opening his glider and lifting into the air. "Don't get caught!" Appa lifted off into the air, disappearing into a thick cloud formation, while Aang circled the area and landed on the roof of the Hall, where gaping holes had been blown from the invading fire benders. __He crept silently across the roof, peering into the holes until he could see the confrontation between the Elder, whom Aang had never seen so fierce-looking, and what appeared to be a Fire Nation military officer. He drew on the air itself to help him hear what they were saying, passing the word vibrations through the air into his ears._

_"Why have you come here, on the anniversary of Avatar __Roku's__ death, to disgrace our temple?" The Elder's voice was slow and even, even peaceful, but his words were biting._

_The officer scoffed. "This is the day you will reveal the identity of the new Avatar… Incidentally, we have also been granted great power by the heavens." He carelessly shot a blast of fire toward a giant statue of __Avatar __Yangchen__, eliciting an angry yelp from the current as it blew apart her visage. "And we have no intentions of allowing the Avatar to stand in our way, as he has before."_

_"You will not take the Avatar from this place." The Elder remarked slowly__, ignoring the fact that the fire benders were carelessly destroying the history of the temple. _

_Aang's__ heart sank as he saw __Kalii__ step forward, determination in his eye and strength pouring from him. _

_"I am the Avatar."He called out, drawing the attention from the whole room onto himself._

_"__Kalii__, what are __you—" __The__ Elder began, but __Kalii__ held up a hand, somehow conveying his plan to the older monk immediately. _

_Aang couldn't contain his internal frustration and anger at being utterly helpless. He wanted to believe that there were greater things that required his attention__, but he couldn't tear himself away from the temple just yet._

_"Leave this place." Kalii warned, sounding more authoritative than Aang could ever have hoped to. _

_The fire bender laughed. "And what will you do? Your bending, no matter your mastery, is useless. Come silently with us, and perhaps we will spare the temple." _

_Kalii appeared to be considering the idea, as though it had never occurred to him that this would be the position presented to him. Then, everything seemed to happen all at once._

_He took a step forward, raising his arms to offer surrender, so long as the temple was left untouched, as Aang opened his mouth to yell, to stop him. In the instant that followed, a trembling young fire bender soldier raised his arms and blew an enormous fireball at the fake Avatar, in premature terror of being killed by the monk__, and __Aang's__ voice died in his throat. _

_The officer glowed in his fury, turning on the young soldier, who seemed more frightened of his commander than of the "Avatar" whom he had imagined threatening him. "You fool! Killing the Avatar doesn't prevent him from anything! He'll be reborn now!" He kicked __Kalii's__ scorched and lifeless body._

_Aang__ choked a little, and then fell through the roof in a mess of yelling and fury.__There was an enormous vacu__um in the room, as he__ drained the air from the lungs of the fire benders, removing an essential component of their bending from their control, and__ bending it to tear apart__ those its absence did not suffocate__. He focused his energy on ensuring his brothers kept their air, and barely noticed when several ambitious fire benders sent blasts of fire toward him. Most only grazed him, but a few left angry red marks which would blister and bleed once his skin got over the shock of the burn itself. __For all his fury, he found that he was quite himself, that his rage and power was all his own, and he had not slid into the control of the Avatar Spirit itself. _

_Several of the monks darted toward him, and the last thing he saw was a long line of fire benders, more than he could have ever imagined, storming the Hall as the monks pushed and shoved him up onto the back of his bison, which he could hardly remember calling…_

Aang purposefully left out the details of his being the Avatar when recounting the tale to Sokka, certain that it might cause more ill than good if he revealed himself after a hundred years of absence. In fact, any indication he might be special to the monks was eradicated, and it became simplified to the point that he was simply a young monk who had seen monstrous things and could not handle that which he had experienced.

"So, you just ran away?" Sokka sounded incredulous and disbelieving that anyone could be so pathetic.

Aang didn't look at Sokka. He couldn't know anything but what the air bender told him, and he was already so ashamed at being unable to help his people, at being forced to flee. "Yeah. I just ran away." He stared at the fire, his knees pulled up to his chest. The pain in his back was growing, even though he was refusing to acknowledge it at all.

"Coward." The word was distasteful and like acid as Sokka spat it out, giving Aang a look that clearly marked his lack of respect for him. Aang found he didn't care so much what Sokka thought, just as long as he left him in peace and quiet.

"Yeah," Aang muttered, holding out his cold hands to the fire. "Yeah, I know." He let the silence sit uncomfortably between the two of them for a long time before breaking it. "Then what happened to the world after the air benders fell?" He didn't really have to ask whether they had or not, it was just an unstated fact.

Sokka closed his eyes, drifting into memory for a moment, then opened them and stared at Aang unabashedly. "Well, we damn well didn't run from the Fire Nation."

Aang met his eyes and refused to look away, though the jab had been intended to make him feel shame. "Tell me."

Sokka leaned back, hands gripping the pelt he was sitting on. Aang had chosen to sit on the barest section of the tent, where there were no furs to offend his beliefs. "The Fire Nation chipped away at the world for a long time… A few cities here and there, a region once in a while. The Earth Kingdom took the longest to fall. They took all the benders from the South Pole early in the war, and we were left desperate and halfway crippled. We never quit, though. A few areas tried to turn themselves over peacefully, hoping it would grant them some sort of… I don't know." Sokka looked repulsed by the idea of surrender more than Aang's supposed cowardice. "I guess they were hoping the Fire Nation would go easy on them."

"In the end, four years ago, the only places left to fight the Fire Nation with their full power were the North Pole and Ba Sing Se, in the Earth Kingdom. The comet," At this he looked at Aang again, rather than the depths of his fire. "Came again and they…" He shook his head. "They just _annihilated_ everything that stood in their way. They sent a small naval force here to finally finish their conquest… Really, it was just a single ship with a lot of soldiers. A lot of people died in Ba Sing Se and the North Pole, but my father did everything he could to prevent death, and preserve our freedom." He shifted, lost in his memories, and Aang didn't bother interrupting.

"We fought like heroes… A lot of us died, and a lot of people were lost…" He looked proud at first, and then the moment faded into carefully masked pain. "We were beaten, beaten _badly_, by the crown prince of the Fire Nation and his military escorts. He went home a real hero, and we lost so much here. Most of our warriors were taken prisoner, and my father had to bargain for our village's survival. They were going to burn it to the ground and kill all of us, if my father hadn't made the necessary sacrifices."

In the fire light, Aang caught sight of the shiny white scar tissue that framed Sokka's face and he felt as though he had swallowed ice. "I'm sorry you've had to suffer so much." It was really a blanket apology for the whole world, because the Avatar should have been there, but when he spoke it aloud, it sounded hollow and meaningless.

"I didn't think a coward could really understand, anyway." Sokka stood up and snatched a blanket up and tossed it to Aang, who felt a pang of anger at being misunderstood and not being able to do anything about it.

"I'll be on my way in the morning." Aang assured him, lying out on the floor.

Sokka frowned, contemplating whether or not he could simply allow a seriously injured human being wander off into the arctic wilderness, cowardly deserter of his people or not. "Not with those burns and cuts. I don't care where they came from, you still need to heal, and then you can disappear for all I care."

Closing his eyes to quell the frustrated eruptions in his chest, Aang tried to go to sleep, but turned and turned, unable to get comfortable.

"Sokka?"

"What?" Sokka acted like he was annoyed at being woken up, but he was just as awake as Aang was.

"What kind of sacrifice did your father have to make?" It had to have been awful for Sokka to be stewing over his defeat four years later in the same undignified manner Aang himself wanted to.

"We're a Fire Nation colony now. We're controlled by people who don't know or understand our culture, and just want to wipe it out completely. We don't revolt, because otherwise they kill everyone. We abide by their rules and laws, celebrate their leader, and try to forget that we're still Water Tribe. The Northern Tribe is much worse off, but we have able-bodied men to fight for us, and we can't. We don't have any benders left here, even the new generations that were born after they took the old ones. And my father…"

Sokka trailed off into silence and remained that way for a long time. Aang waited patiently for him to continue.

"My father traded my sister for the half peace we have." He sounded disgusted, angry, and bitter. Underneath that was unending weariness and sorrow. "I haven't seen her in years, since they took her back to the Fire Nation. She was our bargaining chip, and Dad was lucky that the Fire Nation took us up on it, but every day it burns me up that she's sitting in the Fire Nation. Sitting there, just waiting."

Aang didn't follow. "What do you mean, waiting?" He heard Sokka roll over to face him, so he fully felt the acidity of his next words.

"My sister was given to the Fire Nation as the ultimate prisoner of war, in exchange for the lives of our people. She's just sitting there, waiting for…" He trailed off and rolled back over. Aang sensed that he had realized exactly why Sokka hated the Fire Nation and their rule so much.

To him it was inevitable that his sister sacrifice her personal freedom for the sake of her people, and it was only the sacrifice of his family that kept his people alive. There was no changing that for him or anyone else. If they revolted, not only would all his people suffer, so would his sister, halfway around the world in the Fire Nation. It was tentative, chaotic, and unbalanced, and anything could tip the scales out of their favor.

Aang sat up slowly, looking across the room at Sokka with compassion for his utter defeat. He was still trying to come to terms with his own losses, but the suffering of the remainder of the world was speaking, screaming, to him.

"If you can stand the company of a coward much longer than the healing process, I'll help you with this." He offered slowly, the words and ideas coming from somewhere but himself.

Sokka sat up and looked at him in surprise. "What?"

Aang bowed his head in respect and shame, though it was mostly out of his habitual humility. Something was whispering to him that it was important that he make this offer at that moment. "I can't sit back and let the world exist like this. If I am such a coward, I want to make it right. Let me fight this with you."

Sokka looked stunned at the idea of fighting, though he had dreamed of doing so for so long. He offered an arm out to Aang. "Maybe you're not such a coward, after all."

Aang took his hand and found his elbow being grasped by Sokka. He returned it tentatively.

"Maybe not."

**End Chapter Two**


	3. Chapter Three

**Light The Sky**

**Chapter T****hree**

Aang rolled over, the aching all over his body giving a sharp twinge with every movement he made. He hadn't been able to sleep for most of the night, and he was fairly sure some of the cuts were bleeding again, judging by the trickling sensation down his back and legs. He gingerly touched the cuts he had made on the back of his hands and closed his eyes, as though the reminder of the ritual might bring his people back, though the days since Sokka had found him had proven time and again how much things had changed. He had spent a lot of sleepless nights, tossing and turning and tearing open his wounds, since he had woken up with a jumble of memories that were unfurling faster and faster: things that had not made sense before, that were falling into place faster and faster. He groaned and wished he had the freedom to go lie in the snow, which had piled higher and higher outside Sokka's tent. His tattoos, however, were suspicious, and Aang was lucky that Sokka had not yet completely figured out that he was the Avatar.

To be honest, though, there was no other plausible way for him to have survived for so long, and Sokka had simply chalked up Aang's miraculous story to something he couldn't ever understand. Aang was grateful for this assumption, and the two had existed in a peaceful stalemate since that first night. Sokka ventured out to Appa once a day, and Aang was grateful that his bison was patient, but was eager to move on with him.

He sat up, cringing at the heated aching, and worried that his cuts were getting infected. It was too late in the night to ask Sokka to get snow for him, and he didn't want to risk their safety by venturing out into the cold night, which he was hardly prepared for. He looked into the earthen bowl, which was halfway filled with still water. He glanced at Sokka, to make sure he was still asleep, and then back at the bowl. He had only experimented with waterbending when he had first been told he was the Avatar, because it seemed to come so easily to him after air bending (he presumed it was because the two elements were the two most likely to be similar). Even then, he had only dabbled in it with only mild success, as waterbending required a completely different style than he was used. He focused, trying to bend the water to follow his will and at least curl around one of his hands.

The water shook, and rose slightly before flopping back into the bowl. Aang frowned in irritation for a moment, then tried again with only slightly more success. He didn't want to give up, and was ready to give it another try before Sokka stirred and he let the water splash back into the bowl. After another moment, he tried concentrating on the water again, and managed to wind it around one of his hands. He gave a sigh of relief at the feel of the cool water around the aching of his self-inflicted cuts, eyes sliding shut.

"What are you doing?"

Sokka's voice jarred him out of his peaceful moment, and he shoved his hand into the bowl of water, trying to hide that the water was still wrapped around his hand and losing his concentration over the bending.

"My cuts were hurting a bit. I didn't want to wake you up to help me." Aang explained, trying to write it off.

Sokka crawled over to him, kneeling next to the air monk with a peculiar expression. "I knew something was strange about you…" He pulled Aang's hand out of the water. "But I saw you air bend the other day… And I've only seen something like that with my sister." Bright blue met stormy gray. "That wasn't air bending, was it?"

Aang thought for a fleeting moment that he could lie, but he was a terrible liar and Sokka's piercing eyes told him he would see straight through any lie he tried to feed him. He looked away. "No, it wasn't."

Sokka examined him closely. "How is that possible?"

"I don't suppose it is." Aang admitted, staring at his hands, which were beginning to sting like the rest of his cuts.

"The only person in the whole world who can use any element other than their own… is the Avatar." Sokka trailed off, his train of thought leading him to a place Aang very much didn't want to visit. "And the Avatar has been missing for…"

"Probably a hundred years." Aang admitted slowly, watching the proverbial light turn on in Sokka's head.

There was a long pause, while Sokka stared at him openly. "There's no way." He examined Aang closer. "I don't believe it… _You_?"

"It's not something I want."

"What are you talking about? This is amazing… The world has been waiting for the return of the Avatar since the Air Temples fell… the new Avatar was never born into the Water Tribe… Everyone thought he—you—died and wouldn't be reincarnated." Sokka was awed at the idea, torn between his previous impressions of Aang, and this new revelation that he was the one person who could bring peace to the world.

Aang didn't look up. "It doesn't change things… I had to leave… The only thing I ever did after I was revealed to be the Avatar was run away. You were right, I was a coward."

Sokka searched him again, looking for the truth in his downcast eyes. "I don't think it's that simple… The air monks weren't foolish, at least not in legend."

"They weren't." Aang confirmed, bristling a little.

"Then they wouldn't have let the Avatar die there with them." Sokka concluded. "Not if they had any idea of what would happen."

Which they did, Aang knew. Why else would they choose to tell a twelve year old that he was the chosen incarnation of the Earth spirit? "That doesn't change anything."

"You could change everything…" Sokka breathed.

Aang didn't know what to say, merely stared at his hands some more.

Grabbing his shoulder, Sokka stared into Aang's eyes intensely. "I don't want to tell you that this is your duty, but… you have the power, and the destiny… you could help the world." He trailed off into his own thoughts before continuing softly. "You could help me save my sister and the other Water Tribe warriors."

Aang brushed off Sokka's hand. "You're right. I could, and I already said I would fight… I don't want to fight as the Avatar, though."

Sokka didn't seem to hear him. "We have to find you a waterbending teacher… But all the masters are gone… I suppose there's someone somewhere…"

"Are you hearing me?" Aang interrupted him. "I don't want to be the Avatar. The only thing I've done is abandon my people for death, and then leave the rest of the world to suffer the same fate. You told me about the suffering of the world, and I could have prevented that, but I didn't. I could have protected the Air Temples, but I didn't."

"You could have died there, too. And then what kind of shape would the world be in?"

He was trying to brush off this reasoning, but Aang couldn't help but feel uncomfortable, as though he were hiding from truth. "If we want to do anything about this world, we need to move on from here. There's nothing that can be done from the South Pole." He was changing the subject away from his being the Avatar, and he balled up in front of the fast dying fire.

"Let's get some sleep," Sokka told him. "We can move on in the morning. Your bison… He flies?"

"He's also conspicuous." Aang interjected, feeling frustration build. "And I don't know if I can hide him."

"We don't have to. The Fire Nation will pursue us, but…" Sokka looked excited. "They'll be so surprised that the Avatar is suddenly alive and challenging them."

"And having the army of an entire nation on my tail will not be conducive to changing the status quo." Aang told him coolly.

"It'll draw together resistance. People who were too afraid to fight back might rally under the name of the Avatar."

Aang hadn't expected himself to snap, but for all his years of training and meditating on peace, he did. "I'm just a solitary monk! I'm not trained to be the Avatar! I only know air bending, but that doesn't help me bend the other three elements! It's only through playing around when I was younger that taught me how to even begin to bend water! I can't bend earth, I can't bend fire, and I certainly can't do much of anything with water!"

"We can find you teachers." Sokka sounded so sure of himself, and Aang was finding his strength leaving him quickly. "This isn't impossible. You're the _Avatar_."

Aang closed his eyes, trying to breathe. Images and screams filled his ears, memories of his failure at the Southern Air Temple. "Let's leave in the morning…" He whispered, slightly resigned. "We'll head north and start planning."

Neither of them slept, nor spoke, for the rest of the night, so when Sokka rose by instinct (as the sun had finally fallen below the horizon), Aang rose immediately and began packing what little he had. The blood on his robes would have to stay until he found alternative clothing, though Sokka had pointed out that it was probably prudent of them to get some money and buy him new clothes at the first chance they had. Aang had also been looking for a razor to shave his head with, but had been stopped by Sokka, who advised him that his arrows were obvious. He had reluctantly allowed stubble to grow, though it hid only a little at that point.

The tent flap opened, and Aang heard two people enter, and he started, leaping back and staring at the pair.

"Aang, I wanted you to meet my dad before we left." Sokka told him, gesturing to the slightly larger man next to him, to whom he was nearly identical.

Aang bowed briefly, and then extended his arm and grasped the man's elbow in the way Sokka had done with him.

"I'm Chief Hakoda… Sokka says that you…" He scanned Aang's tattoos and markings. "He says you're the Avatar."

Aang didn't look away, but gave the very slightest nod he could manage. "Pleased to meet you."

Hakoda smiled very slightly. "Be careful out there… the world is a different place than it used to be." He looked vaguely haunted by this knowledge, but kept his attention on Aang. "If you find my daughter out there… Please tell her I'm sorry." He closed his eyes. "I hope you rescue her and the others."

Aang nodded, numbness spreading through his limbs. He couldn't guarantee anything, not even that he would be able to help himself, let alone this man, his daughter, and the whole world. "I will." The answer was hoarse, but lent strength he did not feel to the chief.

Handing his son a large bag, Hakoda clasped Sokka's shoulder. "Be strong, son. I believe in you."

Aang selected a thick cloak from the items provided, pulling the hood low over his eyes. It was more effective than a parka in keeping him covered, though it lacked the warmth provided.

"We should go before the patrol comes through again." Sokka told him, swinging the bag over his shoulder. Aang picked up Sokka's sleeping bag, and then followed him to the opening of the tent, where Hakoda was watching for anyone who might see them.

"It's clear… Go, and be safe." Hakoda told them, touching each of their shoulders in turn, as though for luck.

They slipped out into the night, ducking into shadows at every chance, and hurrying out to the tundra. It didn't take long for them to find Appa, who gave a bellow at the sight of Aang, who rubbed his muzzle and, after looking over the bison, leaped onto his back, arranging the supplies in the saddle. Sokka climbed up warily, though he had gotten to know the bison over the days.

"Are you sure he flies?"

Aang didn't respond, but whispered something to the bison, patted his head, and they were off into the perpetual night. Sokka gave a long yell as they took off, heart pumping and fearful that this was most certainly not safe.

Aang directed them north; they flew much of the day in silence, Aang lost in thought, and Sokka examining the contents of the bag Hakoda had given him.

"My dad gave us quite a lot of money… He also gave us some food, and weapons, among other things." He sifted through. "Rope, fishing twine…"

Aang allowed Appa to steer himself, knowing the bison wouldn't stray from course, and climbed back into the saddle, bending the wind to keep from knocking him from Appa. "A good thing, too." He examined his bloody robes painfully. "You're right about needing new clothes though."

"The robes would give you away, if the tattoos didn't."

Aang instinctively touched his head, brushing over his short hair. "I suppose I need something to cover the end of my arrows, though."

Sokka looked down, and was surprised to find that they were far beyond the reaches of the arctic pole, and he was starting to see signs of trees and growth. "I guess we'll start seeing towns sooner than I expected… If we stop close to one tonight, I'll buy you some new clothes."

Aang nodded thanks and leaned against the saddle. They had circled the Southern Air Temple several hours before, and the sight of its decrepit and collapsing walls made him sick with memories and shame. They exchanged brief exchanges back and forth until they came into sight of a small island where night was falling.

"Why don't we stop there?" He pointed to the cluster of lights, and guided Appa to land in the forests. He leaped off, cloak billowing and ignoring the itch and burn of the cuts, which he interpreted as healing.

Sokka followed, holding only the bag of money and looking in the direction of the village. "I'll be back soon. I'll scope it out and buy some clothes for you."

The air bender nodded, leaping into the trees to gather food for Appa. If he was right, there was a stream nearby where they could gather water. The last week had been so manic in Sokka's company, learning about the world they lived in, and the extent of the Fire Nation's influence, that Aang had barely had the chance to think of himself and the way he was supposed to handle things now. Once Appa was fed, he stripped down by the stream and let the cool water flow over his cuts soothingly. He washed himself slowly, taking a moment to rinse out his hair and rub his scalp. When he was finished, he climbed out and pulled his pants on, choosing to leave his robe off until Sokka returned.

When he came back to Appa, he saw the dark shadow of Sokka approaching him, holding a package, which he offered to him when he came close enough.

"Thanks…" Aang told him, opening it slowly and finding a sleeved shirt with a matching armored tunic, a pair of wrist guards, and a long strip of cloth which fluttered to the ground. He picked it up and stared at it questioningly. "What is this?"

"I thought it was a little less conspicuous than a hat… And it'll cover your arrow."

Aang frowned and pulled the shirt on, then the armor and the wrist guards. He hesitated for a long moment before tying the cloth around his arrow, and felt somehow stifled with its presence. "Well?" He asked quietly, looking over himself.

Sokka peered at Aang's head, and then nodded slowly. "In the dark, you can't even see the tattoos. Why don't we go into town and scout a little?"

Aang wasn't particularly pleased with the idea, but being with Sokka didn't necessarily give him much of a choice, Avatar or no. "Alright." He agreed, following his companion toward the small, dimly lit town. It had looked so bright from the sky, but now it was just dark and dingy. "What is this place?" He whispered, brow furrowing.

"We're apparently on an island that was named for one of the past Avatars," Sokka told him, and Aang stiffened a little. "For Avatar Kyoshi. Though, it's been renamed and the statues torn down." He led Aang toward a tavern. "The people remember, though."

"This doesn't seem like a very good idea." Aang told him, eyes scanning the area, and trying not to worry about the kinds of noises echoing from the same tavern they were approaching.

"There's not a better way to hear gossip." He leaned in close so no one could hear him but Aang. "You can't really think we're going to be able to take on the whole Fire Nation by ourselves, do you? We need to find allies."

Firmly keeping his mouth shut, Aang slid into a chair in the corner, and Sokka leaned over the table to him.

"Do you want to drink anything?"

Aang shook his head. "Probably not a good idea." He leaned back, tuning his ears through the noise, trying to see if he heard anything of interest. There was a lot of muttering in the tavern, and Aang frowned, because it sounded largely suspicious and aggressive. Sokka had wandered off to get a drink, leaving the air monk on his own.

A large man sat down in Sokka's seat and leered at Aang. "You're not from around here." He stated, and it wasn't a question.

"No, I'm not." Aang replied calmly, his heart thumping in his chest. This had been such a bad, bad idea, and he was ready to stun the whole room and start running.

"We don't like outsiders."

Aang swallowed. "I'm just passing through."

The man nudged his hand, where the wrist guards sat. "Passing through, armed for a fight?"

Aang cursed silently, and then stood abruptly. "I'm not looking for any tonight." He impressed firmly, starting toward the bar while trying to catch Sokka's attention. The man seized his shoulder and spun him, then knocked him into another table. Aang felt a tankard of the ale tip over and spill over the floor. The bar stopped, watching them.

"I really don't want a fight." Aang tried to reassure the man, but found himself dodging heavy blows aimed at his head. "Sokka!" He yelled, leaning back impossibly far before flipping backwards onto the table and leaping over the man's head. "Sokka!"

The Water Tribe man dropped the tankard he was holding, charging through the crowd, which was still watching the exchange between Aang and the stranger in awe. "What did you do?!" He cried, clocking the man on the back of head with his elbow, shoving Aang toward the door.

The tavern exploded with people, all leaping into the fray. Aang lost sight of Sokka within seconds, trying to keep himself together and alive. He was trying very hard to keep from using bending to aid him, but the instinct was overwhelming. Finally, he inhaled slowly and blasted the crowd backward with a gale-force gust of wind, Sokka staring at him in vague horror.

Everything was quiet for a moment while everyone took in the moment, before another man gave a sharp knock to the back of Aang's head with a particularly heavy tankard. His vision blurred before blacking out and he tumbled to the floor.

When he woke again, he was chained rather tightly to a dank, earthen wall, eyes not quite ready to focus. He was acutely aware of the sharp headache that was throughout his entire skull. Sokka was awake and staring at him wake up.

"You idiot."

"It was your idea to go into that tavern."

"You were the moron who showed off your damn airbending."

Aang growled a little in his throat, and then slumped against the wall. "I panicked. I'm not sure how to get out of here… I didn't even make it a day in the rest of the world." His eyes closed.

Sokka started, staring down the long hallway that led to their chamber. "Did you hear that?" He whispered.

Aang listened, easily picking up the sounds of footsteps echoing through the hallway. The two watched as two figures came into sight and entered the room, stepping down slightly into the room.

"Well, well…" A young man, perhaps Sokka's age, or a little older, surveyed them from under the mop that was his brown hair. "What do you think, Suki? Think we've got some Fire Nation spies?"

The woman looked them over. "Poorly disguised spies, at best. Lucky us, there were some of our people in that tavern." She stated, reaching for Aang's headband.

Aang let out a strangled yell, kicking his feet up and at the pair. The man's face hardened, and he shoved Aang back against the wall mercilessly, knocking the wind out of his lungs. "Don't touch me…" Aang warned through his panting.

The man laughed, and the woman only smiled a little. "I'm sure you realize you haven't much of a choice in the matter." She told him, as though still appraising the two of them. "There's something wrong with these two, Jet." She told him, frowning again, looking over Sokka's clothes. "This one appears to be Water Tribe."

Sokka scowled. "I _am_ Water Tribe." He cocked his head toward Aang. "Have you all realized who he is yet?" He challenged, as though it ought to be obvious.

Which, really, it should have been, given that he had been caught while air bending. Aang shot him a nasty look, clearly telling him to stay quiet.

Suki raised her eyebrows. "Oh, I'm sure it doesn't matter." She prodded Sokka slightly. "And everyone knows the Water Tribe was crushed by the Fire Nation." She twirled a fan between her fingers, painted eyes watching Sokka carefully. "The Northern Tribe had all of their warriors slaughtered, while the Southern Tribe traded their autonomy for the lives of their people." She paused for a moment, gauging his reaction, before pressing on. "Which means you're from the tribe that surrendered as a bunch of cowards." She concluded coldly.

Even after years of knowing Sokka, Aang would never see him as angry as he was in that moment. He jerked one of his chains straight out of the wall with strength he did not appear to have and seized her by her robes. "We fought—and died—as heroes. We live in shame, but you don't know _anything_ about what we had to sacrifice."

Jet drew a sword and pressed it to Sokka's throat. The Water Tribe warrior swallowed, and Suki pushed his sword down.

"Don't worry about it, Jet. He's just angry." She surveyed Sokka closer, nodding slowly. "I don't know about the other one… But he's definitely not Water Tribe… And probably hiding something." She didn't give Aang time to react, simply opened her fan and sliced with razor sharp edges, watching as the headband fluttered to the ground.

It took a moment for the pair to take in the blue point on Aang's forehead before Suki lowered her fan and closed it with a snap. "An air nomad." She breathed, hardly daring to allow such a simple action. "There's no one else in the world who would have tattoos like those."

"What do you know about air nomads?" Aang demanded, hardly heeding the situation he was in.

"An old man in our group told me all about them." She told him, turning on her heel and motioning for Jet to follow. "We need to talk to _her_ about these two."

Aang felt his heartbeat race at the mention of someone who might know something about the air nomads. Had one of his people survived, while he was unable to sense them? Who else could have known anything about his people? He slumped against the wall, while Sokka still struggled, one hand flailing and banging against the stone walls.

"How the _hell_ did we end up here?" Sokka raged.

"Do you think Appa's okay?" Aang asked quietly, probably the most serene Sokka had seen him since they had met.

Sokka felt slightly calmer, as though Aang's aura had spread to him and cooled his temper. "Yeah… That bison survived a week in the tundra. He can definitely live in an Earth Kingdom forest for a couple days."

"They're not bad people, I don't think." Aang told him.

Sokka closed his eyes, quickly running through the encounter in his head. "They're Earth Kingdom rebels." He opened his eyes again, shaking his head. "They have to be. I just… didn't think there were many rebel groups still active."

"Maybe we were destined to meet them."

"I don't believe in destiny." Sokka spat. "There's no power in the universe that could create good in the universe that would allow the Fire Nation to do what it's doing."

"In all things, there is dark and light; in the shadows they produce is where the world must exist, lest it disappear into the extremes." Aang recited to him, his chains jangling as he blew back the sleeve of his shirt, exposing a part of his arm. "One of my brothers wrote that on my left arm, to humble my perceptions of my journey." He closed his eyes and exhaled very slowly, soothing himself for the first time in days. He hadn't had much time to come to terms with the deaths of his people, or the presence of a stranger whom he was relying on to help him take on the whole of the world. "I really hope these people can help us."

Sokka sighed, rubbing the wrist which was still chained to the wall. "They won't as long as they think I'm a coward and you're an enigmatic air bender. Or if they think we're Fire Nation spies."

"If they haven't ruled that out yet, they're not very smart." Aang observed.

"I don't know. That Jet guy looked like a complete goon."

Aang didn't respond for a long time, before he sighed. "Sokka?"

"What?" He sensed that Aang was going to ask him an uncomfortable question, but was trying very hard to be tactful about it.

"You were talking about your sister earlier, weren't you? When you were talking about sacrifices."

Sokka hung his head. "I know it's probably selfish… but I don't actually care that much about what happens to the rest of the world. I hardly even care about the warriors who were killed or captured at this point, because Katara…" He squeezed his eyes shut. "She was completely innocent of anything. If they were going to take someone, I wish they could have taken me."

"Why didn't your father send you as their prisoner of war?" It was a question eating at Aang for a long time, wondering if Sokka had a greater purpose in the village than he made it seem, or if he had had a moment of weakness where he had allowed his sister to be sent away in his stead.

Sokka laughed bitterly. "Katara was worth more, in a lot of ways. I'll inherit the title of Chief from my father, but _she_ was the only developing water bender at the South Pole. She had no teachers, but she learned quickly on her own, teaching herself. That was infinitely more dangerous than any weapons skills I had. They wanted benders out of the way, and they were willing to let me stay to take her." His face darkened. "On top of that, my father bargained her hand in marriage above all else. He took a gamble, and the Fire Lord accepted Katara as his son's future wife. We kept our lives and some semblance of our lives. The Fire Nation could keep an eye on one of the most powerful benders in the world and marry her off to their future Fire Lord, who wasn't going to be easy to marry anyway."

Aang felt the force of what Sokka was saying as though he suffered another blow like the one Jet had delivered him. "I'm sorry…" He murmured. "I promised I'd help you save her… I'll still hold up that promise."

Sokka looked at his companion for a long moment, then smiled very slightly. "Now you know the whole truth… How hard it's really going to be."

"That doesn't change anything."

"I really was wrong about you."

Aang started to respond, but was cut off by the sound of footsteps approaching in the hallway again.

"You had better be right about these two, if you're going to drag me out of bed to come here in the middle of the night." This voice was new, and sounded sharp and angry.

"There's something wrong about them… About one of them, especially. Pathik told me about the kind of markings he has, and I never expected to see them on some stranger on my home island." Aang had trouble making out Suki's quiet words. "The other Kyoshi Warriors did some investigating, and a few of the brawlers swear they saw some kind of bending no one had ever seen. They could have been stone drunk, but you never know…"

Suki entered first, followed not by Jet, but by a petite young woman who approached the shackled pair with confidence. Her black hair was tied back in a long braid, which she doubled up and pinned to her head, and she wore a pale green robe with a high waist and flowing bottom. She gave off a powerful aura that dared anyone to mess with her and betrayed her feminine and composed appearance. Aang noticed no hesitation in her steps, but she was barefoot and wore several jangling anklets. She was wearing what appeared to be thick bracelets, but, upon closer inspection, were clearly arm bracers. She marched straight up to them, but did not seem to be looking at them at all.

Sokka wondered for a moment what she was doing, before catching a glimpse of her cataracted eyes and realizing that, for all her composure, she was completely blind.

"I strongly recommend the two of you stick to the truth when speaking with me. I will know immediately whether you are lying or not. I don't like liars. I have questions for both of you about the abnormalities Suki has recognized. You are on my terms, playing by my rules, so long as you are in our custody and protection."

"What is this place?" Sokka interrupted, earning himself a cold glare from the woman.

"We call ourselves the Order of the Conch." She announced proudly. "We call together those who seek to fight for our freedom, and stand united under one banner. I am the standing leader of the only known resistance in the world." She shifted, and Suki stayed a few steps away from her, allowing her to maintain her independence.

"I am Toph Bei Fong."

**End Chapter Three**


	4. Chapter Four

**Light ****The**** Sky**

**Note:**** So, because I always forget to explain timelines when I do alternate universes, I inevitably get asked about ages and whatnot. Aang is, as he tells Sokka, sixteen years old. The only difference in the timeline, ultimately, is when the comet comes. In this case, it ****comes**** when Aang turns sixteen, and again 96 years later, when Sokka would have been 15, Katara, 14, Toph, 12, Zuko, 16, etc (in other words, their ages from the show). Four years after **_**that**_**, the events of this story begin (making Aang sleep for a full century). So, in this story, ages go as such: Aang: 16. Sokka: 19. Katara: 18. Toph: 16. Zuko: 20. Mai: 19. That should give a good standard for everyone's ages, so estimate everyone else off these ages. Sorry for any confusion this might have caused up until this point! **

**Chapter Four**

"Now, tell me what you were doing in a tavern on Kyoshi Island." Toph seemed to be directing the question toward Sokka, who stared at her openly, still dangling from the wall with only one arm.

"We were…" Sokka didn't seem to know how to finish responding to the demand.

"Let me clarify." She told him and, with a very abrupt movement, created a chair out of earth. Aang felt his heart skip at the first demonstration of earth bending he had ever seen. "What were you, a Water Tribe warrior, doing hundreds of miles from either of the poles? Moreover, what were _you_, an air bender, doing with him in an Earth Kingdom tavern?" She indicated Aang with her voice, rather than her eyes. She sat perched in her chair, observing them coldly, as though she could truly see from her eyes.

"Do you really think he's an air bender?" Suki whispered to Toph, who didn't react, simply continued to stare ahead.

Aang didn't deny it, but shifted in his shackles. "We were scouting in the north, looking for any signs of resistance."

"Lucky that you found us, then, isn't it?" Her voice was biting, as though she did not entirely believe him.

"We want to fight the Fire Nation… and the two of us aren't enough."

To this, the young woman laughed. "All the people in the Order aren't enough."

Aang swallowed and stared at the floor. "Is it a large organization?"

"Not particularly." Suki responded automatically. It was clear that the group had a standard on information to be shared with outsiders, which included the size of the group.

Toph held up her hand. "No, Suki. They're trustworthy." This answer surprised both Aang and Sokka, but evidently she had been somehow testing them in her previous questions. She stood and paced a little before approaching the pair. She reached out and brushed her fingers over Aang's hands, particularly over the cuts he had inflicted on himself and paused. "You were hurt. I thought I smelled blood." She traced the pattern on his hand again, then dropped it and stepped back toward her earthen chair, obviously contemplating carefully.

Aang sucked in a breath. Had she recognized the symbol on his hand? Would she have been capable of recognizing it and what it meant? If she did, she gave no indication either way.

"The Order of the Conch is a network of resistance across the Earth Kingdom. We're the only known _active_ resistance in the world. We've taken in several groups over time, including the Kyoshi warriors, which Suki leads, and Jet's group of freedom fighters. A lot of individual rebels have also found their way into our group. We're a large network, though still not large enough to fight the Fire Nation alone." She stood and motioned to Suki. "Let them go. They weren't lying."

Sokka rubbed his wrists when Suki released him and stood, waiting foolishly, for Aang to be released. The airbender mimicked his actions, and looked at Toph searchingly. "Will you allow us to help you, then?"

Toph held up her hand to stop him from speaking. "I still want more answers from you two. Like how you managed to get away from the South Pole to search for resistance." She directed the remark toward Sokka. "Or why you'd want to."

"We're looking for resistance, like Aang said. I'm tired of living like my people have been. I… encountered Aang, and I had to get him away from the village. When he suggested that he wanted to fight the Fire Nation, I decided to go with him. My father, Chief Hakoda, is covering for my absence."

She nodded, as though this response was adequate, and then turned to Aang. "And you? How is it possible for you to be an air bender, when your people were all killed a century ago? What business would you have at the South Pole?"

Aang tried to think of a way to explain without going into extensive detail. "I don't really know myself." He admitted, bowing to her. "I wish I knew how it was possible for me to be alive here, now. But I am."

Toph seemed willing to accept this answer as well, and pushed the earthen chair back into the ground with a stomp of her foot. "Go ahead and take them to the barracks, Suki." As she headed into the dark tunnel alone, she called back to them. "We'll talk again in the morning."

Aang, as though he was suddenly remembering, jumped and called back to her. "My bison! He's in the forest on Kyoshi Island."

"We'll have someone retrieve him, then." She told him, waving a hand over her head dismissively, voice echoing as she disappeared.

Suki ignored them for the most part as she led them through the earthen tunnels, until Sokka persisted in asking her questions.

"What is this place anyway?"

She motioned to a nearby guard, who used his earth bending to open passage to another tunnel. "One of many headquarters of the Order of the Conch. I suppose that since Lady Toph has determined that you are worthy of being privy to our secrets, I may as well share them with you." She did not sound convinced of their worthiness, but her respect for the younger woman was clearer than ever that she trusted Toph's judgment over her own.

"My Kyoshi warriors were one of the small resistance factions that stood against the Fire Nation during the war and immediately afterward. We kept the traditions of Avatar Kyoshi alive in our culture and fighting traditions… but they were not enough against the fire benders when the time came. We spent a long time on the run, hiding out and trying to do damage where we could, before Lady Toph found us and we were brought into the Order of the Conch. We lost several honorable women trying to resist the Fire Nation raids, and in the weeks afterward. Not the kind of casualties that Jet's freedom fighters did before they were brought in, but we weren't as reckless." There was a bitter edge to Suki's voice, as though she did not entirely approve of Jet or his tactics.

"Who else is part of the resistance?" Aang pressed her, looking for more information.

"There are some individual rebels who joined up from various parts of the Earth Kingdom. We found a mechanist up north after the Northern Air Temple was completely destroyed. He'd been using that as a base camp against the Fire Nation until they fire-bombed the temple, so he and the refugees who had been staying with him set up another compound a bit farther north. That's one of our larger ones, aside from the one Lady Toph manages here. There's a small camp in the swamps with a few rogue water benders." She looked at Sokka at this point, before pressing on. "An old man from the East came to us, wishing to help us. He's been invaluable where it comes to training practices and gathering some information, though he isn't here now." She closed her eyes. "The resistance in the Earth Kingdom is strong, but we are still largely underground."

"Basically, you mean you haven't reclaimed any territory."

Aang frowned and nudged Sokka. "Stop it," He hissed.

Suki shot Sokka a cold glare. "I don't see the Water Tribe doing much of anything to resist at all."

Sokka returned the look, and Suki stopped short in front of them. Another guard used his bending to open another wall, leading straight into a hallway with a series of doors. Suki opened one of them and motioned for Aang and Sokka to enter.

"A group will collect your belongings and bring the bison here," She announced, before marching off and closing the door.

Aang felt a smoldering in his stomach, which was burning hotter with every passing second since Suki had mentioned the destruction of the Northern Air Temple. "What do you think we should do?"

Sokka sat down on one of the beds, which were nothing more than raised earthen platforms with bedrolls laid out on them, and cradled his head in his hands. "I don't suppose we can just burst into the Fire Nation and demand to see my sister, can we?"

"I really want to go north," Aang admitted. "After we can do what we can for your sister and your warriors. I know they said the temple there was destroyed but I feel like I…have to." He stared at the ground. "I'll probably go by myself, though."

Nodding his understanding, the elder of the two lay out. "I'll go with you. I want to see the Northern Water Tribe, myself. I know they're not much of anything anymore, but…" He closed his eyes. "I feel like I owe it to them, at least. To give them hope." He paused a long moment, then opened his eyes and looked at Aang. "How likely do you think it is that the Bei Fong girl will let us walk out of here and do our own thing?"

"I don't know… But I don't mind allying myself with them."

"Aang… I know you don't really see things this way, but a lot of people in the world blame you for what's happened, especially with the second coming of the comet." Sokka sat up, frowning. "Even I do, a little bit, because everyone knows that the Avatar is meant to protect the world. No one expected you to just… disappear when we all needed you the most." He looked embarrassed at the admission.

"They don't even know I'm the Avatar." Aang looked at his hands. "But…I know." It wasn't a hollow response; Aang really did know how much the world needed him—had always needed him—and his failure to do them any good, after failing the air nomads, fueled the ugly feeling in his gut. "I have no way to make up for disappearing. I don't even remember what happened after the temple was attacked, just the monks forcing me to leave with Appa. The weather was bad that day, and I was flying north. I don't even remember making that decision for myself." He turned his hands over and examined the backs of them. "It's not an excuse. I want to do my duty now, to change what's already happened. Who knows, maybe it was meant to be this way."

Sokka looked uncomfortable. "All I'm saying is that you should be prepared for people to reject you, turn you away, or even try to help the Fire Nation destroy you. These people probably wouldn't turn you in, but they'd probably be hostile. I admit that I feel some kind of… resentment, that you didn't come sooner, or save us before things got this bad." At Aang's alarmed look, he pressed on. "I wouldn't hurt you, and I want to help you. I know you can make things right, and I know it's not _really_ your fault. Still, I almost can't help it." He lowered his head. "It's partially my own shame and willingness to cast the blame to someone, anyone, else."

The air bender understood immediately, and sat down on another bed. His heart sunk into the floor. "How are we supposed to break into the Royal Palace and rescue your sister?" Aang had the chilling feeling that it was going to be a difficult feat to pull off.

The door opened very suddenly, and the both of them started, jumping and staring at the door in anticipation.

"We have your bison." It was a young woman they had not yet encountered, but she was painted in much the same way as Suki. "He's alright." She told Aang, catching the anxious gleam in his eyes. Motioning for her companions to enter, they set down what Aang and Sokka recognized to be their belongings. The former leaped up and seized his glider, holding it for comfort.

"Thanks." He told them, looking back up after examining the long pole.

"Lady Toph will certainly wish to speak with the both of you again in the morning. It would be best if you got some rest." She turned on her heel and left out without another word. Her companions, a lanky sort of man with a quiver of arrows strapped to his back, and a large, hulking sort of man with a gentle look in his eyes, lingered for a moment, examining the strangers before following her out.

"Do you think I should tell them I'm the Avatar?"

"I thought we just determined that that would be a bad idea."

Aang sat down on his bed again, still clenching the glider. "I feel like I owe it to them. Maybe they won't take it well, but… It's hope, isn't it?"

"I don't know about that. You might be thinking a little highly of yourself." Sokka's voice held an undertone of cold bitterness it had not before.

"You certainly sounded hopeful when you found out I was the Avatar." Aang shot back, cooling quickly and stretching out on the bed. He rolled onto his side. "I'm going to take her advice and get some sleep."

Sokka didn't follow suit for a long time, trying to make sense of himself in the scheme of things, now that there was so much that had changed—would change—now that Aang had appeared. His mind was swirling with the events of the week, what they overtly meant, and what they _could_ mean. Aang hadn't really been arrogant when he suggested that the return of the Avatar would mean hope for the people. Of _course_ that's what it meant. The people relied on the Avatar to manage their conflicts as they had for centuries. When he disappeared without being reincarnated a century before, they had been convinced that somehow they had angered their gods, or the spirits, or whatever it was that sent them the Avatar to be their savior from themselves.

Still, some would resent him for not being around sooner to rescue them from their own nature, and for allowing them to destroy themselves indiscriminately for a century before daring to return. The standards Aang was being held to weren't necessarily fair, and understanding his situation—his _humanity_—made it harder for Sokka to subscribe to that thinking. He closed his eyes, vowing to help Aang more than he had, and drifted uneasily into sleep.

When he woke, it was with no real perception of what time it was. Aang was already awake and arranging his clothing to look less rumpled than it did.

"Good morning," He greeted the Water Tribe warrior with a tense smile before turning and heading for the door.

So, he was still upset about the night before. Sokka didn't blame him. He followed after a moment, patting his side to realize, as he had not before, that he had been disarmed during their capture. Cursing and hoping that they had not mistreated his carefully maintained weapons, he followed where Aang had left and was met with yet another stranger, who bowed very slightly in his direction before nodding to him and heading off into the dim hallway. He followed and was led to a room where the blind girl, Toph, was seated at a table with Aang.

"You're here. Good." She kept her feet flat to the floor and looked serious. "If you two were planning on gathering a resistance alone, you're not going to get anywhere, except maybe a Fire Nation prison. If you're serious about it, you're welcome to join ours."

Aang looked as though he was releasing a breath he had been holding.

"Well, that's relieving." Sokka looked at her, searching her stance for anything for what was going to come next. "What's next then?"

"I want to know what the two of you plan on doing." She was blunt, and clear in her meaning.

Aang looked uncomfortable for a moment, looking at each of the people in the room. "There's something you need to know." His voice was low and quiet, but Toph appeared to hear him just fine.

She made a quick flicking motion with her hand, and those who were guarding the room left. "Tell me." She didn't sound surprised at all, as though she knew all along that they were withholding information from her.

"Sokka… Tells me that it won't be something that goes over well, but," He fumbled with his wrist guards, which he had found returned to him in his bags, and pulled them off. He held out his hand for her to touch, as she had the night previous. Her fingers traced the symbol of the Avatar again.

"You're the Avatar." She didn't wait for him to finish. "I know."

Aang was stunned. "You do?"

"There's no other reason for you to have that symbol carved on your hand, is there? Not even the people who served the Avatar wore it." She did not elaborate on how she could know this, or even how she could recognize a symbol at all. She seemed to take this information in stride, plowing forward. "I trust you, and what's good enough for me is good enough for the rest of the Order."

Aang pulled the wrist guards back over his scarring hands, masking his surprise.

"I still want to know what you're planning on doing."

"My sister." Sokka spoke up, having kept in uncomfortable silence through Aang's exchange with Toph. "My sister and many of the warriors of the Southern Water Tribe are prisoners of the Fire Nation. We—I—want to infiltrate the Fire Nation to rescue them. Aang offered to help me."

The girl was quiet for a long time, considering their plan. "How were you going to pull this off?"

Sokka looked surprised. "I… Don't really know. We haven't had much of a chance to talk about it."

"That's pretty stupid, then." She frowned. "But if you need anything we can offer you, it's yours."

"We were lucky." Aang told her quietly and continued at the quizzical stare Sokka gave him. "To have met people who were willing to help us, and so early on, we were lucky."

"Fortune favors you naturally." Toph told him, equally as quiet. "What about after you've rescued your kin?"

Aang frowned at this. "I need to begin searching for teachers to teach me the elements. First water, then earth, then fire, and then I have to fight." He stared at his hands again, an easy escape from having to look at people. "I'm prepared to go on alone, when the time comes; to fight this war single-handedly." A week, Aang thought, was not long enough to convince anyone, least of all himself, that Sokka would continue with him after Aang repaid his debt by rescuing his family.

Toph looked thoughtful. "I don't think that's going to be a problem. People will surprise you."

Aang nodded slowly, keeping his optimism high. "Thank you."

She straightened. "Then it would probably be useful to know that I have received word on a resistance movement within the Fire Nation itself."

Sokka's mouth dropped open. "A _what_?"

Toph didn't repeat herself. "There have been rumors of a secret society that has been distributing literature opposing the imperialistic nature of the Fire Lord, and promoting traditional Fire Nation culture over the Fire Lord's imposed bans on most of the traditional arts."

"Bans? Culture?" Aang frowned, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Evidently, Fire Lord Ozai has imposed bans on some Fire Nation traditions. Royal endowments for music have been removed entirely, musicians locked up, instruments destroyed. Dancing was outlawed over sixty years ago by Fire Lord Azulon. There has been a push for large-scale deforestation and urban growth, to allow for development of Fire Nation technologies." Toph looked mildly disgusted at this. "These things run on fire, steam, and minerals mined in the Earth Kingdom. They've destroyed a lot of land in the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation alike. All in all, it looks like Ozai is pushing for the Fire Nation to develop new technology and industrialize in ways no nation ever has." She handed a flyer to Sokka, who passed it in turn to Aang. "That's an example of the flyers this society is distributing. That particular one is encouraging people to practice music in secret groups and keep the tea ceremony ritual alive. There is another which promotes some of the traditional non-bending fighting arts which are being phased out." Sensing the quizzical nature of Aang's stare at this, she elaborated briefly. "Suki reads them to me."

Sokka fought back a laugh at the flyer, which promoted a "Music Night", and even included an invitation to one. "This invitation on here, it can't be serious, can it? If they're secret and don't want the Fire Lord to kill them all. Unless…" Aang took the flyer from him and Sokka continued thinking. "Unless it's a secret code." He slammed his fist against his palm. "It's a code! If this is how they communicate… Maybe we can break the code!"

Toph cut him off before he could get carried away. "Don't you think I would've tried that already? Besides, they wouldn't have a kid's code hiding their secret messages. They have to stay ahead of the Fire Lord, don't they? At this point, we're just trying to make contact with them." A flash of discomfort crossed her face, as though she were struggling with something. "I'd like your help with this if you're planning on infiltrating the Fire Nation."

"You want us to keep an eye out for this group? For anything to do with them?" Aang looked determined, clenching the paper particularly tightly.

"I'm sure they have to be recruiting in some way. If you just happen to find the right connections, it would be…useful to establish contact with them." Toph looked embarrassed at the request.

"I'll be happy to." Aang shot Sokka a sideways glance, indicating that he was not willing to speak for him as well.

"We both will." Sokka interjected immediately.

Toph stood and stomped a foot to the ground, causing her anklets to rattle, opening a section of wall that led from the room. "Follow me, then." They stood and followed her into a long tunnel lit by sporadic torches until she stopped short at a dead end and stomped again, revealing a large room where several members of the Order were waiting patiently, as though they had known she would be arriving with their guests.

She picked up a parasol from a nearby table and opened it to reveal that it was heavily decorated with the motif of a doe. "These parasols are common enough in the Earth Kingdom that no one would think twice about your carrying one. You aren't likely to find bases in small towns, or in Ba Sing Se, but if you need to find members of the Order, just walk around with the parasol open."

Sokka exchanged an uncomfortable look with Aang as Toph further outlined the ways to locate allies from the Order. When she was finished, she closed the umbrella with a snap and handed it to Aang.

"You're both welcome to stay here as long as you need." She turned to face the gathering of people, which had tripled since they had first entered. She scanned faces quickly before speaking. "We have made allies, not enemies, in our guests." She announced, and then waited for the buzzing in the room to quiet before pressing on. "We have also been given a chance to be among the first people in a century to meet the Avatar."

At this, the room exploded with noise, and it took several stomps from Toph which shook the floor to silence them again. "Avatar Aang is here to help us. Anyone who has any problems can take them up with _me_." No one moved. No one dared to defy the girl they all recognized and respected as the greatest earthbender alive. "Then, I'm sure everyone will be happy to help the Avatar in any way they can." It was clear to each of them that they were not to cross paths with either Aang or Sokka, or be met with their leader's fury.

She turned to face them again, apparently done with her speech. "Have you decided what you want to do?" She did not seem to be addressing either one of them in particular.

Looking to Sokka first, Aang spoke up. "We should probably leave tonight. It's probably for the best that we travel at night and try to get to the Fire Nation as soon as possible."

"We'll help you get ready, and give you some supplies." They bowed and started to leave, but Toph stopped Aang. "Suki wants you to meet Guru Pathik. She was inspired by him in the past, and he knows a lot about your people. She thinks that you both could benefit from meeting. He lives in solitude in the Eastern Air Temple."

Aang looked at the floor. It was strange being reminded that no one lived in the temples anymore, save for various wanderers who seemed to have taken an interest in the cultural heritage that remained alive only in Aang. "Thank you. After we go to the Fire Nation… I don't know, whatever happens next, I hope I get the chance to meet him." He bowed to her and Sokka appeared at his side again.

"Hey, someone's supposed to take us back to the room to get ready." He seemed surprised that it was so late in the day, but they hadn't had much of a perception of time since being knocked out in the tavern the night before.

Nodding once to indicate that he understood him, he turned his attention to Toph again. "I can't begin to thank you for helping us so much. I don't really know where we would have gone or what we would have done."

She bowed to him in return. "Be careful out there."

Sokka exchanged a formal farewell with the girl as well before following yet another stranger back to the room where they had slept the night previous. A brief rest and refreshing bath rejuvenated the both of them and were led out of the underground compound at twilight.

There weren't many people, but more than Aang had anticipated for their departure. He knew they were all there to see _him_ off, and tried to push away the guilty twist in his stomach. He had kept the flyer from their meeting with Toph, and pulled it out when they were in the air again.

Sokka peered at the flyer. "Oh, yeah…" He looked between Aang and the piece of paper. "You seemed awfully eager to find this other rebel group."

Aang pointed to the lower right-hand corner, where a stylized lotus was stamped, as though for decoration. "That's the same design as the lotus tile in Pai Sho. In fact, it's the same as my mentor's lotus tile."

"It's just a drawing. There could be hundreds of lotus tiles with that design." Sokka sounded skeptical, but Aang shook his head.

"He painted his set by hand. He took the design of his lotus tile from the art in the temples." Aang sounded pensive, as though he was slowly retreating into himself.

"You don't think he's alive, do you?"

"No, I think I would know if Monk Gyatso was still alive." He stared out at the rapidly darkening sky. "But maybe they know something I don't about the air benders." He shook off the feeling overcoming him. "I just want to know more, really."

Sokka lay out in the saddle, staring up at the sky. "It's a long way to the Fire Nation capital." He remarked bitterly.

Aang sat next to him. "Tell me about your sister, then; about the warriors imprisoned there. I can tell you about the temples. We can plan what we're going to do." He smiled faintly, trying to be friendly to his companion. "We've got plenty of time."

Sokka recognized the first real extension of true friendship from the monk. He wrestled with himself for a moment, and then smiled as well, accepting it. "Things weren't always miserable at the South Pole. Everyone, Katara and I in particular, had a way of surviving the horrors of war with a smile. We got in everyone's way and went penguin sledding…" He trailed off and was surprised to see the rapt attention Aang was giving him. "Maybe she's changed since the last time I saw her, but Katara was the source of a lot of my strength when things got bad."

"I hope she didn't change," Aang told him, his smile growing as he checked the map. "I think you'll need that strength if you plan on hanging around me."

Sokka frowned, startled by Aang's response. "What about you? If things get bad, where will you get it from?"

The teen stared at the map blankly. He had asked himself the same question more and more as he learned about the world he had woken up in. "I don't know… But I'll know it when I find it."

**End Chapter Four**


	5. Chapter Five

**Light the Sky**

**Note: I know updates haven't been as regular as I'd like, and I truly apologize for that. Ever since I got back to school, I've been constantly running to get things done in preparation for... Well, everything. Hopefully, I'll find some time to slow down to write another chapter by the end of this week, but if not, look for it sometime this weekend. This chapter diverts from Aang and Sokka's story, and discusses more about Katara, which is where our heroes will be ending up here soon. Some important information is conveyed, and it gives me a chance to describe Katara's situation, and her character, which has been affected by her circumstances. Constructive criticism, comments, and positive reviews are always welcome!  
**

**Chapter**** Five**

The warmth and bright light from the risen sun poured into her room, waking her slowly and uncomfortably. She muttered a few curses for herself for failing to close her curtains, and crawled off the bed without much grace or dignity. After four years she still wasn't used to the large beds used in the Fire Nation, and still thought longingly of her warm furs and blankets. In a small wooden chest in the corner of the room were the only things remaining of her life with her tribe, her _family_. There were no days that passed that she didn't remember and miss them all with a passion she thought no other could match.

Certainly not her fiancé, she thought darkly, sliding out of her gown and stepping into a small adjoined room where her wardrobe was kept. On few occasions, she had been permitted to visit her warriors in their prison cells, and every time she was carefully guarded by one or another faceless soldier, watching her every move, listening to her every word. Every time, they accused her of treason—of betraying them and her people. Every time, Katara left with as much dignity as she could manage, and cried of homesickness and despair in her apartments.

She had not been given much choice in the matter but she didn't dare tell them. She didn't dare remind them that they only need stay in prison until her marriage, and that _they_ at least were alive, whereas the Northern Water Tribe faced extinction with no men to continue their lines. She endured their humiliating taunts—their bitter words—and she continued to visit them. Now, she could visit them with assurances that they would be returning to their wives and their children soon. She could promise that they would be sailing home, and she would be staying in the Fire Nation: the trade-off necessary for her people's lives and longevity; the price of their freedom and her life in the Fire Lord's palace.

She spent a long time staring at the shelves, knowing that she would have to soon dress herself, but found she had no real desire to do so. Certainly she would be met with shock and shame were she to set out in a dressing gown or entirely nude. She entertained the thought for a moment before shaking it away. It was more trouble than it was worth, she knew. As she turned, she caught a glimpse of herself in the long mirror hung for her use in the closet. She used it daily after she was dressed, but it had been rather a long time since she had looked at her bare form.

Her tanned skin had grown paler than it normally might have been, from being kept largely indoors. Her excursions into nature were limited to heavily monitored strolls through only a small portion of the Royal Gardens, and so she rarely saw much of the sun. Still, it was darker than any of the others who dwelled in or around the palace, and she was often the subject of talks about the exotic. Her hair fell down her shoulders, a cascade of curls which stretched past the feminine curve of her hips. She was completely lost in looking at herself, at the fullness of her bosom, which were perfectly rounded up to the minute point surrounded by her browned areolae. Her waist pinched in below there, then curved back out, then in again for her long, slender legs. Her face was what concerned her. Instead of the kind smile and bright eyes which had dwelled there only four years before, she looked as dull and lackluster as her skin did without the sun. She was haunted and grieving, and painfully aware that no one who cared was even remotely close enough to help her.

Finally, she tore herself away from the mirror and pulled a light robe from the shelf. Summer in the Fire Nation meant that it was winter for her people, and she missed the dark winter with only the southern aurora to light the sky and fill the night with its humming music. Still, it was hot in the Fire Nation, and so she pulled on the robe, hardly noticing how it hugged the form she had just been inspecting. She stepped into a pair of burgundy slippers and selected a similarly hued bolt of silk, which she would wear around her shoulders as she wandered the palace grounds. She had been lectured endlessly upon her initial arrival that it was best for the new fiancée of the Prince to err on the side of conservative fashions, and keep from attracting too much attention. Most court ladies would have done without the wrap, but Katara did as she was told and wore the dresses and wraps as diligently as the downtrodden and ashamed air which surrounded her.

A knock on the door from her sitting room signaled that her maid had arrived, and was asking permission to enter.

"I'm ready." She called back, keeping her eyes on the floor and seating herself at the table against the wall.

The door opened immediately, and the maid, whose name Katara was never allowed to know, came in and immediately started with her hair, without a single word to her. She suspected the maid was likely among the majority of Fire Nation citizens who opposed their Prince Zuko's engagement and impending marriage to a Water Tribe peasant, and never tried to initiate conversation with the girl after the first few weeks of living in the Fire Nation. The girl was swift, but rough at times with Katara's head, which was no longer half as sensitive as it had been upon her arrival. When she was done, her hair was tamed into a top-knot, with the excess hanging around her shoulders and down her back. The maid bowed politely and took her leave, having no further obligations with Katara.

She sat for a long time on the small stool, staring at herself in the mirror and wondering how she had changed so much in four years from home. Her life was meaningless, as far as the people of the Fire Nation were concerned. Her people looked at her life as a necessary tool for bargaining their freedom, and she felt a twinge of resentment that they expected so much from her without helping themselves. Slowly, she stood and left the dressing room, entering the antechamber that was her sitting room. She was immediately greeted by a pair of servants whose sole job was to watch the princess-to-be and ensure she did not escape. Their job would expire after both her marriage and the birth of the first heir of Prince Zuko, when she would be no longer willing to leave without her children. It was a bleak existence, she knew, but she endured it with her head high, keeping stowaway hope deep within her heart.

"Good morning, Lady Katara." One greeted with false sincerity. She smiled dimly, and nodded to him in a return of the greeting. "Where will we be going today?"

"I think I'd like to take a walk in the gardens. It's been a long time since I got some fresh air. And then…" She hesitated for a moment before pressing on. "I need to petition for permission to visit my father's warriors in their prison."

The servant who had not spoken yet nodded and departed immediately, leaving Katara alone with the other servant, who held out his arm for her to take. It was not a gentlemanly gesture, she knew, but rather a reminder that she was meant to be subservient. She took it and he led her out of the apartments which had been granted to her.

"Has my lord made plans for me?" The formality in her voice was as sincere as the kindness offered to her by her bodyguards.

"I believe your _fiancé_ wishes for you to dine with him tonight. You are to be fitted for your betrothal robes this afternoon, and Princess Azula has requested your presence for tea when your robes have been fitted."

At this, Katara felt her stomach plummet through the floor. Azula rarely spoke to her as it was, and if she was requesting that her future sister-in-law join her for "tea", it spelled trouble for aforementioned sister-to-be. She knew she did not have much of a choice when it came to Azula's invitations. She had refused one only once, and Azula had casually mentioned at dinner that night the flammability of the prison where the tribal warriors were being held. She had gotten the message immediately, and suffered through Azula's taunting presence every time she was "invited" for a meeting with the princess.

"I see." She finally stated, tightening her grip on the bolt of silk around her shoulders. "Be sure to let the princess know that I will be delighted to join her."

"I will be certain to." He responded automatically, and Katara knew that he was well aware of Azula's threatening presence.

When they burst out into the warm sunlight that was the courtyard gardens, Katara felt slightly at ease being back in nature. Granted, the sun was not the source of her power as it was for the fire benders, but it was something akin to Tui and La: a celestial brother to the twins who granted her power. She prayed to her guardian spirits every night, but she never knew precisely what it was she was praying for. Her own freedom? The deliverance of the world? Whatever it was she was praying for, she had faith that Tui and La would deliver.

She wandered the garden she had memorized, pausing to smell the summer flowers and briefly wondering whether or not it would ever change, or if she would eventually be permitted into the greater gardens. Her train of thought was interrupted by a mirthful laugh and the murmur of hushed voices that sounded vaguely familiar. As she rounded a corner of hedges, she was met immediately by her fiancé and the lady who would eventually become his mistress.

Mai leveled the coolest glare she could manage onto Katara, who bowed very slightly in her direction. "How lovely to see you this morning, Lady Katara." She grated out, fingering the springs in her sleeves.

"The same to you, Lady Mai." She bowed lower to her husband-to-be. "Prince Zuko." She continued on her path, ignoring them entirely after the formal greetings that were necessary. She heard the hiss of Mai's angry whispering to Zuko, but kept her head held high as she continued forward.

She knew the root of Mai's abusive behavior to her lay in her strong romantic feelings for Zuko, and the bitter resentment that she had been denied the honor of marrying the man she loved in lieu of a foreigner. Katara and Zuko had come to terms with their marriage of diplomatic necessity long before then, and while she had no qualms with his philandering with the Fire Nation noblewoman, it was still a sore spot for said noblewoman. Katara endured the humiliation of her situation. She promised to tolerate Zuko's presence in formal events, and even permit him monthly visits to her bedchambers for the conception of an heir, but only after they were married. Aside from the formal necessities of being Zuko's wife, she made it clear that she wanted nothing more to do with him, and even encouraged his attachment to Mai.

A call behind her beckoned her escort to return to Zuko, and Katara stiffened in his absence, suspecting what was to come next. Indeed, the purposeful footsteps of Mai were striding toward her. Katara leaned forward to smell a particularly fragrant flower, and managed to look mildly surprised to see Mai standing next to her with cold fury etched on her face.

"Lady Mai." She bowed again, reaching for another flower. Mai's wrist flicked outward, and a small throwing knife sliced open the hand Katara had extended. The flower itself was impaled on the knife, which had buried its point into a nearby plaque. Katara examined the cut, which was shallow but long, with a frown. "This seems rather unnecessary." She commented coolly, while Mai continued glaring at her.

"Whether you are married to Zuko or not, I want to make it clear that you will never have his heart. Even if I cannot be married to him, I will always be with him, no matter what, and he will value me more than you." The venom in Mai's voice might have had an effect on anyone else, but Katara was above it.

"Lady Mai," Katara began formally. "Perhaps Prince Zuko has not been clear enough with you when he pledged his heart to you and not I. This marriage is one that neither of us welcome, but we both understand to be necessary. My people keep their lives as a function of my marriage to Prince Zuko, and the Fire Nation has a tried and true diplomatic stake in the Southern Water Tribe, which would never attack one of its daughters." She summoned a small amount of water from a nearby fountain and carefully laid it over the cut Mai had given her. The soft glow from her healing was pale in the summer sun, and when it was healed, she directed the water to shower over the flowers growing next to where she was standing. It was probably foolish to display her waterbending in the middle of the Royal Garden, but she kept from feeling too much worry about it.

"The Fire Lord can keep a close eye on the world's only living water bending master, while maintaining a stranglehold on my people. I am quite sure that Zuko would much prefer your marital company, but he obeys his father when ordered to marry a Water Tribe peasant. You are welcome to his affections and his heart. I have no desire for either." With this, she turned and continued on her stroll as though nothing had happened at all. A moment later, she was joined by her escort again as she continued through the garden. When they neared the end of the path, her other guard approached them.

"Lady Katara, I am afraid your request has been denied."

The news wasn't really surprising. She requested to visit the warriors at least once a week, and was denied nearly every time. "Very well." She sighed and looked up at the intimidating structure that was the Fire Lord's palace. "I suppose I should attend my robe fitting, then."

"This way, please." Her guards led her back into the palace. She stole one last glance to the bright sun before disappearing into the darkness of the palace.

As she was led through the palace, she felt a sense of foreboding as she realized that she was being taken for the daily tradition Fire Lord Ozai had established for her. Prince Zuko's conquest of the South Pole had brought back endless treasures from her people, and Katara herself had been included in a later tribute that had brought even more. These items of conquest were on display around the palace, and especially in one particular hall which she was led down every day to remind her of her place in the world. She was to be without hope. She was the last of her kind, and the Fire Nation had her culture in a stranglehold. When she and the rest of her generation died there would be no more Water Tribe, except in this pathetic hall of imperialistic horrors.

Indeed, she turned the corner to find herself assaulted by various Water Tribe artifacts. Tools, weapons, art, relics. Everything from her home was transplanted to this place in a distorted sort of way that set her on edge as they strode down the hall. She did not show her discomfort or speed her paces, however much she desired to.

Finally, they came out to the other side of the hallway and she was led back to her apartments, where she was greeted by the Royal seamstress. It was not their first meeting, but rather yet another in a series of encounters wherein Katara was measured, prodded, and fitted time and time again. The familiar red of her wedding robes was within sight, the seamstress removing them from the wooden trunk where they were being kept. She waved the guards out, and Katara removed her shoes and robe, standing naked on a small pedestal, where the seamstress could do her work.

The silk of the robe was smooth on her skin, but Katara felt blank and cold. This was the final fitting, and that meant that her wedding couldn't be far off in the future. They hadn't told her when it would be, though she had understood, from servant chatter and formal conversations at dinner, that Fire Lord Ozai had bent to the will of his court and was following Fire Nation tradition in arranging it. There had been allusions to visiting a fortune teller to determine the date—the auspicious details of her future—though Katara thought there was nothing lucky about it. She tuned out the sound of the seamstress chatting without meaning to her about the upcoming wedding, how lucky she was, and what kind of life she could look forward to.

_A hell_, Katara thought, staring determinedly ahead. Finally, sensing the woman was done, she looked over into a mirror and felt her heart sink. To anyone, she would have been beautiful, but all she saw was her identity being washed away in a flood of red and gold silk.

"Perfect." The seamstress remarked, immediately removing the hated garment from Katara. When it was safely away from her, she folded her arms over her naked body and reached for the robe she had selected that morning. The robe was folded carefully and returned to its box, as Katara neatly dressed herself in the robe and slipped back into her shoes. Gathering her supplies, the woman left without another word, replaced immediately by her caretakers, who bowed respectfully and ushered her out again.

She sucked in a labored breath, knowing that next she was meant to spend time with Princess Azula. She closed her eyes for a moment and struggled with a strong desire to run. She was led to Azula's personal apartments, where said princess was waiting patiently for her. She looked the image of perfection, crimson robe tucked neatly around her slim figure, hair held firmly in place by a golden hairpiece. She smiled for her guest, an immediate indication that this was not going to be a pleasant encounter for Katara, who sank slowly into the chair provided for her adjacent to Azula's.

"I'm so glad you could make it." Azula began, waving her hand to a nearby servant, who poured tea for the both of them. "I wanted to spend some _quality_ time with my brother's wife-to-be, before the wedding comes along and everything gets horribly complicated. Consummation of marriages, worrying about producing an heir to the throne. You know, _married life_." Her smile was unwavering, and Katara swallowed slowly.

"Yes. I suppose it's better to get these moments in while we still have the chance." Katara lifted her tea cup to her lips and stared down at the depths of murky water.

"I'm so glad you agree with me." Azula set down her tea cup and stood. "I wanted your opinion on the dress I decided to wear to your wedding." She crossed the room and opened a wooden chest similar to the one Katara's wedding robes were being kept in. She carried it effortlessly to where Katara was sitting, and set it on the floor, kicking open the latch and lifting out a mass of blue silks and white furs.

Katara felt her heart stop for a moment and nearly dropped her tea cup. She felt herself shaking violently as she briefly considered bending the tea and using it against the smirking princess. Of _course_ Azula wouldn't hesitate to ridicule her Water Tribe heritage, and would give even less consideration to the centuries of tradition she was mocking by even considering wearing the traditional clothes of the Water Tribe. Her eyes swept over the garment, recognizing its design and craftsmanship as something worn only by high-ranking Water Tribe women at their wedding.

"I did plenty of research, and it seems like this would be the most suitable for me to wear for your wedding." She was smirking as she laid out the dress over a nearby couch.

Careful to set down her cup before she threw the hot tea onto the princess, Katara forced a faint smile. "Yes, I suppose it is. It's very lovely."

She suffered for the remainder of Azula's forced tea party, occasional talk about the dress, and a twisting sensation in her stomach that made her nauseated. Azula stopped short of nothing to ensure that this was the reaction in her future sister-in-law, who was powerless to her whims. At the earliest second which she could finally escape, she stood and fled as politely as she could manage, hiding in her room for a long time, where occasional sobs could be heard outside the doors where her guards stood.

Katara wanted to give no one in the palace the impression that they had won, but she was being forced to accept that her fate was not going to change from an unhappy marriage of diplomatic convenience. Her prayers to the spirits, it seemed, had fallen on deaf ears that were not likely to send her any consolation or deliverance. She did not want to feel weak, but for all her mastery of her element, she was trapped in a place where she was entirely out of place and powerless. She dried off her eyes and sat up, staring at her water pitcher. She summoned the water within it to her and began twisting it around her, concentrating on the forms she had learned from miscellaneous scrolls she had smuggled from the Fire Lord's library and adapting them to herself. She encircled herself in it, the cool comfort of its touch serving to soothe and cool her.

Her eyes grew very heavy for no particular reason, and she closed them, overtaken by something within the water. As the coma took over her momentarily, she was given visions of a young man not much older than she. He looked so familiar, with the overgrown stubble around his face, and a skin tone to match hers. He almost looked like her father… Her dream self realized that it had to be her brother, Sokka, though he had changed since she had last seen him. Wounds she had helped heal were now vivid scars down his jaw and neck, partially hidden by the result of several days' worth of failing to shave. He was sitting by a small fire with a stranger Katara did not know, and talking vividly, waving his arms in the firelight. His eyes did not match his tone, but it was apparent that he had not been in such a mood in a long time.

The stranger laughed, and Katara was stricken by the trailing, blue tattoos that covered his exposed arms and shins. He had short hair that appeared to still be growing in, as it did not hide the matching blue point on his forehead, and bright grey eyes that were shining with something like mirth, though it was clear that he too was weighted by things only his eyes betrayed. The vision faded to show her brother talking to the same stranger, looking serious as he pointed to a map between them. There appeared to be nothing but sky around them, which Katara did not think to question until later, when she looked back analytically onto the vision. Her eyes were drawn to the map, which had an inked trail drawn from the South Pole, north, and to the east, before veering away across the ocean toward the Fire Nation.

Toward her, she realized with a start. Sokka was pointing to the point on the map where the Fire Nation capitol was; to where she was.

Just as suddenly as she was dropped into the vision, Katara was propelled out. Having lost her concentration over the water, she found herself lying, soaked, on her bed. With a flick of her wrists, she removed the water from both her and the mattress, dropping it back into the pitcher with a splash. She fell back onto her bed and stared at the ceiling wide-eyed. She wasn't sure if the vision was nothing more than a dream induced by the heat, or a vision given to her by the spirits through her bending. Either way, there was no explanation for the vivid detail, or the subject, of her dream. She wanted someone to save her from this, and perhaps it was a result of that hope that she would see her brother coming to rescue her. What, then, would explain the vivid, eerily real nature of the dreams? And what of the stranger travelling with her brother?

There were not typically explanations for such things, but she was overcome with an itch to understand exactly what it meant. The skeptical part of her that had spent too much time listening to Sokka told her that the stranger was likely to be simply a representation of her wishes to be rescued, a mirror of herself and her dreams. The part of her that had not yet given up on hope, however weakened it was, was heartened by this vision. It didn't matter whether or not the stranger was real. Her vision could be real. Sokka could be coming for her.

For a moment, she forgot about her responsibilities to the tribe, and the sway the Fire Nation held over her people. She forgot about everything except the possibility of having her own life back, her own identity, separate than an extension of her people's interests. It was in this frame of mind that Katara spent the remainder of her afternoon, until a timid maid came to tell her it was time for her to be escorted to dinner.

She stood and oriented herself, checking her paled reflection in the mirror before emerging back into the sitting room, where the guards were waiting patiently for her. Holding her head high, she allowed them to lead her to the dining room where she would be eating with the Royal family, a persistent fire burning in her chest, reminding her of her vision and of her hope.

Midway through the meal, the Fire Lord addressed his son. "Zuko, after your wedding, you and your new wife will be going to the North Pole to oversee the implementation of the new governorship."

Katara sucked in a breath, feeling the blow of this news as severely as she had taken Azula's choice in wedding attire. She had long since grown accustomed to the Fire Lord's disregard of her as an individual.

The Fire Lord's brother took this news without much reaction. "Who is to be the new governor?" He asked, with only mild interest.

"Admiral Zhao did an excellent job of securing the North Pole for us during the war, and has seemed eager to return on a personal mission he claims will further empower the Fire Nation. I have decided to honor him with rule over the North Pole in reward for his honorable actions." Fire Lord Ozai was as cool and even as ever, and did not even look at his brother, the General.

Fighting back an urge to scream was becoming increasingly difficult, but Katara held it at bay with assurances to herself that she would not have to endure this much longer. Either free completely of this maddening existence, or as Zuko's wife, she would no longer be ridiculed and mocked so openly. In the meantime, she kept her head down and feigned disinterest in the discussion at the table, which had turned to the North Pole itself, and speculation on what Zhao had planned for his future rule over the area. She was very rarely personally addressed, and was left, for the most part, in peace at the table. There was neither romance nor aggression at the table, only the same apathetic cold that defined Katara's nearly non-existent relationship with Zuko. Briefly, Katara wondered how she was to be expected to marry this man if he did not even deign to acknowledge her.

General Iroh looked over to her with a disarming smile. "Lady Katara, I saw you taking a walk in the gardens today. It was indeed a lovely day, was it not?"

She was shocked that anyone had bothered to speak to her. Indeed, the whole table was staring openly at Iroh for his forwardness.

"I am quite sure that _Lady Katara_ is not interested in discussing the trivialities of weather with you, dear Uncle." Azula was simpering and cold, but Iroh ignored her tone entirely.

"Well, if not the weather, then perhaps you would be more open to discussing your wedding plans?" He had not lost the kind smile that she had seen him grant to others before. It was the first time she could remember him addressing her at all, though he was often absent from such familial gatherings.

She did not say that she had no desire to marry Zuko, but bowed her head respectfully. "I have no plans for the wedding, except to perform my duty honorably and exactly."

For an instant, she thought she saw a flash of sadness in Iroh's eyes before he laughed merrily. "Very well, Lady Katara." He turned his attention to his niece, who did not seem willing to humor her uncle, though she proceeded to do so regardless.

When the meal was completed, Katara stood gracefully and was last to leave the room. Her guards started to flank her, but were waved away by Iroh.

"Don't worry. I'll see to it that she returns safely to her rooms."

The guards didn't look immediately comfortable with the idea, but disappeared down the hallway.

"You didn't need to take time from your schedule to walk a humble woman to her apartments."

Iroh smiled very faintly. "I suppose I did not _need_ to, but I _wanted_ to get to know the woman who is to be my niece. I'm sure you've noticed that it is difficult to give attention to Azula, and I never had daughters of my own."

She considered his words, and mulled over her response for a long time. "It is appreciated, General Iroh." They walked in silence for a long time, until she reached the doors of her apartments. "Thank you." She bowed to him, and he returned the gesture to her surprise.

"You seem disheartened, as though your soul is stifled." The smile was back, and Katara was reminded of her father. "Never give up hope, little waterbender."

She started at the use of her grandmother's nickname for her, head snapping up and staring at his smiling face. "I…" She couldn't find the words to say, but he opened the door to her rooms instead.

"As we say in the Fire Nation, 'Even in the most despairing of circumstances there is a source of flame'. Even you might be surprised where you will find your source, and your _friends_." He bowed to her again and bid her good night, leaving her more bewildered than she had been in a long time.

**End Chapter Five**


	6. Chapter Six

**Light The Sky**

**Note: This chapter is a bit longer (nearly 1000 words) than the previous chapters, but when I hit my 5000 word goal, I realized I wasn't quite ready to end the chapter yet. The next installation will be about half the size of a regular chapter and will be focused on other characters aside from Aang, Sokka, and Katara, though it will follow this chapter in the chronology and serve as a segue into chapter seven. Despite the long delay in finishing this chapter, I'm hoping things won't be so bad in the future. I am, however, coordinating a large-scale move for both myself and my family, so simply keep watch for new updates. I encourage all livejournal users to look up my writing journal (the link is in my profile), as I tend to give frequent updates on the status of my works in progress. Thank you all so much for continuing to support this story!**

**Chapter Six**

Aang was quietly moving around the cave he and Sokka had taken refuge in the night before, trying to organize his thoughts into cohesive ideas before daybreak. He stood at the entrance to the cave, overlooking the sea which surrounded the island they were on. They had chosen this particualar location to rest for the advantage it afforded them in secrecy and solitude. The mouth of the cave was concealed inside the steep cliffs on the eastern side of the island, fifty feet above sharp rocks and coarse waves, and Aang had only barely spotted it as they made to land Appa on the island.

Clutching his glider, Aang stretched and took a dive toward the rocks, snapping open the mechanism and swooping up the rock face. He landed smoothly on the grass, which glittered with the morning dew, and set down the closed glider. The sun was rising brilliant and golden in the horizon as Aang slipped into the familiar forms of his sun salutation, deliberately impressing calm on his body, which was electric in anticipation. When he finally slipped into the final pose, his heart had slowed to a normal pace and the sun was finally above the line of the horizon where ocean met sky.

Appa rumbled a greeting to the young monk, stretching each of his six legs as he stood. Aang lowered his hands and rubbed them onto Appa's muzzle.

"We've got the morning to fly to the capital…" He had been carefully ticking the days off in his head since his awakening, and in the few weeks since then they had managed to travel further than he had dared hope in the beginning. The journey had been largely uneventful to both of their relief. Aang had feared that Appa might be too conspicuous and catch the eye of any roving bands of Fire Nation soldiers, and while Sokka echoed those fears, the Water Tribe warrior rarely gave any indication that he was ever unprepared for any scuffles they might encounter in the long days to the Fire Nation.

A yell from the cave on the cliff brought him back to reality. "Aang!" Sokka's voice was flat against the roar of the waves crashing onto the rock face.

The monk snapped his glider open and fluttered with the wind down to the cave. "Are you ready to go?"

Sokka nodded slowly and handed off the bag they had brought out of Appa's saddle to Aang.

"You aren't nervous, are you?" Aang sounded so calm that Sokka envied his visage of tranquility. He thought about lying for a moment before swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Yeah, I am. We can't hope for the same luck we had with the Order of the Conch. We have to establish contact with this group, find a way into the palace, save Katara and the warriors…"

Aang slung the bag over his shoulder and held out a hand to Sokka. "I'm worried about it too." He looked out of the opening of the cave with a frown. "But we've come this far, haven't we?"

Nodding numbly, Sokka took Aang's hand as he snapped open the glider and lifted them easily into the air. Aang was right, he thought. They had come a long way since they had met at the South Pole, and the last month of one another's company had given them ample time to accustom themselves to one another. He hissed in discomfort as they rocketed up and over the cliff, Aang bringing them both to a soft, slow landing on the grass where Appa was waiting.

"I'll never get used to that…" Sokka breathed, touching his chest where his heart thumped painfully.

Aang shrugged it off and secured Appa's saddle. "Let's get going."

Sokka climbed up into the saddle and peered down at the shrinking island beneath them. "I don't suppose you could manage a cloud around us, could you?"

Climbing from behind the reins, Aang sat across from his companion. "Not any better than I did that first time. It takes more waterbending than I thought." He waved his hands as they passed through some low-lying clouds, bending the air around them and frowning as it blew them apart, leaving the front of his tunic wet. It was about the same result as the first time Aang had tried to offer them cover by bending the clouds around them, except that time had resulted in a very wet, very grumpy air bison and an even grumpier Water Tribe warrior.

Sokka sighed and looked down at the passing ocean and islands. "I guess we'll just have to manage, then. They wouldn't really be expecting invaders from the air, would they?"

Aang examined the map they had picked up in a remote Fire Nation town, periodically checking the landscape below them for reference. "I don't want to put Appa in that kind of danger." He remarked, ticking a mark on the map before looking up and pointing to a small forest in the outskirts of the capital. "We should hide Appa there and enter the city on foot. They'd shoot him down in a second as soon as they realized there was something in the air."

His brow furrowed, but Sokka considered Aang's words. They hadn't directly addressed how they planned on getting into the city, but he had simply assumed they would fly in on Appa. 

When he thought about it presently, however… "I can't believe I didn't think of that." He sounded particularly disappointed in himself.

Quickly rolling up the map, Aang offered him a smile. "We've got enough to worry about aside from Appa." He replaced a rolled poster with the map in the bag before unrolling it in between the two of them. The flyer featured a well drawn image of a dragon curled around a phoenix and a caption decrying the Fire Lord's most recent crackdown on the traditional arts. He seemed to be studying the flyer carefully before Sokka interrupted him by laying his hand over the paper.

"Aang, the secret to this group isn't going to magically leap up to you out of nowhere. We've spent the better part of nearly half a moon cycle trying to sort it out, and the best we've got is the alias the writer is going by, which gets us nowhere."

The bottom of the paper was decorated with the neat calligraphy which Aang roughly translated as The Phoenix Lord. The flyer did not directly say what it was criticizing, but Sokka had pointed out that the artistic design differed enough from the others they had found to suggest that it was an artistic protest. Aang had been more concerned with the various ways the characters could be interpreted than with what the actual purpose of the flyer was.

"This dragon and phoenix thing… it's been on most of the flyers we've found." Sokka noted, resigning himself to a long morning of attempting to crack the hidden code within the flyers as Aang was determined to do.

"And this person calls himself the Phoenix Lord. Does that mean there's a dragon, too?" He shook off the thought. "Maybe they have something to do with the dragons."

Sokka frowned. "Aang, the dragons were killed off years ago. There's no way there's a real dragon involved."

Aang started visibly at this, but Sokka stopped, mouthing the words to himself again. "Dragons…" He breathed, pounding his fist into his opposite palm. "Aang! Dragon is a Fire Nation title given to a warrior who's slain a dragon!"

"What?" The blank look on Aang's face slowly melted away. "How do you know?" He breathed, staring back at the paper.

Sokka waved away the question. "My tribe was defeated by one of the Fire Nation Dragons who was part of the royal family. They tried to teach us a lot about their culture. Ha, I bet they never thought it would come back to get them!" Sokka was gleeful in his realization, reaching into the bag and pulling out several other flyers with the matching design, examining the signature with deepening wrinkles in his forehead. "Nothing… _nothing_ in the signatures about a 'Dragon'."

Shaking his head, Aang shrugged. "I'm not sure it means anything, it was just an idea." But as he watched Sokka, the beginnings of comprehension began to show on Aang's face. Ignoring whatever order Sokka was attempting, Aang shuffled through, organizing each flyer based on what it decried and the author. A moderate portion were from The Phoenix Lord, another substantial portion by another author who titled himself Agni's Blade, and a third, significantly larger pile which was authored by someone who appeared to have given their real name, rather than a title. Sokka looked visibly concerned about this.

"This doesn't make sense. Most of these flyers by this Phoenix Lord are geared toward artistic pursuits… Mostly crafts the Fire Nation traditionally lays on their women: calligraphy, painting, flower arranging, or poetry. "Agni's Blade" keeps his protests toward the fighting arts and the military: protests against military brutalities, the way the Fire Lord is slowly doing away with the non-bending arts, and other related policies." He flicked one of the flyers signed with the mysterious signature. "But this one makes no sense. He has no alias, just a name, and it has to be a fake one, because he has more flyers published than the other two combined. There's no pattern to the things he writes about; general outcry at the state of affairs in the world, music nights, just… anything." He tossed the flyer down onto the leather platform of Appa's saddle, and Aang's eyes followed the flutter of the paper.

"Wait…" He whispered, seizing the flyer, then comparing it to the one he was already holding. "Sokka, look at this signature—it's not the same every time." He traced the pattern of the characters. "Look," He told Sokka, focusing carefully on the characters. "This part of this character," He pointed to a portion of one of the characters. "It means 'lotus', among other things. It's hidden in the name as just a part of the overall character."

A smile spread across his face. "And here, in the characters for their first name, there's another character hidden in the whole. This one is 'jade'."

Sokka frowned, scrutinizing the pages. "I don't see how they're different from time to time."

Aang laughed and Sokka frowned, unable to see what could make _Aang_ sound so reassured of the possibility of success. Had he ever really heard Aang laugh before or did he only imagine that it sounded like a something that should have come naturally to the teen? Regardless of Aang's relief or any unfounded musings on what Aang _could_ have been like, Sokka couldn't quite make heads or tails of the minute differences between the signatures. But Sokka had never been any good at calligraphy, and his handwriting was sloppy and indifferent to the subtleties required of good penmanship. "The rest of this supposed name is made up of directional or numerical characters which, if I'm right about Fire Nation naming tradition, isn't uncommon. They make up the spoken syllables of the name, though not _typically_ in a way that might make sense. But look: the way they use the pen is different each time. In this character," He pointed to the page. "They could shorten the number of strokes they use, but they don't. In others, they do, or break the rules of calligraphy completely."

Sokka seized the paper, his mind clicking into synch with Aang's. "You mean… This signature might actually be a way to find them?"

Aang suppressed a triumphant grin. "Or at least to wherever they hold their meetings. The bit about 'jade lotus' could be completely irrelevant but somehow I doubt that."

Sokka stared at the signature again, finally noticing the small details in penmanship for each signature, which only seemed to appear on the characters which could be linked to a cardinal direction. The numerical characters which followed the directional character had no variation, nor did the characters for 'jade lotus'. "Do you suppose we can—"

Aang cut him off by leaping up and seizing Appa's reins. "No time, Sokka. We've got to get Appa into those trees." He pointed to the rapidly approaching forest, where Aang managed to successfully manuveur Appa under the tree canopy without attracting any attention from the outlying villages around town.

The pair had grossly underestimated the time it would take for them to hike up the mountain into the deep crater of the dormant volcano, and it was late afternoon, nearly evening, by the time they made it into the capital city, which bustled in its everyday activity. Sokka looked unnerved by the normalcy of the Fire Nation citizens, having clearly expected nothing better than the soldiers who had invaded his homeland.

"Do you suppose we should try and find a place to stay for the night?" Aang asked softly, watching the sun dip farther down on the horizon.

Sokka looked across the crowds, leaning against a building near a darkened alley. "I don't know. It's too far to head back to Appa, and if we don't get any information soon, we're…" He shook his head in frustration. "I wish I knew where to start."

Aang slid down the wall, grimacing slightly as the rough stone scratched the new scars across his back.

Sokka gave him an empathetic half-smile. "Do they still hurt?" He had been wounded several times when fighting for the Southern Water Tribe, and then there were the hunting wounds he had taken over the years. The stomach wound he'd taken from the walrus-bear the day he met Aang had long since healed, having been very shallow, albeit painful. The scars which littered Aang's body no longer appeared a jumble of tortured marks as they had initially, but the work of deliberate self-mutilation. They should have caused the young monk unspeakable pain, but he never once complained about them or let on that they hurt at all.

"No," Aang smiled faintly, plainly lying. "They itch a bit, though, since they're still healing." The truth was, as Sokka already knew, that the lacerations _were_ healing, but the flesh beneath was still remarkably tender, even weeks (_years_, Sokka reminded himself) after the ceremony proclaimed Aang brother among the monks.

Aang rubbed his shoulders gently, where the stone had irritated the healing skin. His eyes slid shut, allowing memory to take over for a moment. He drifted in the memory of the blood-stained tunic he had worn to his purification, and of the wisdoms he had pondered while bleeding on the stone slab under the rising sun. Regardless of what happened after, it was a pleasant memory of shucking off the pain of the material world, of removing himself from his physical being and searching through the wisdom of the universe for the strength he would need as a new Avatar.

Sokka's voice and tight grip forced him out of his reverie. "Aang!" He hissed excitedly, pulling the monk to his feet. "Look! Aren't those the characters for 'jade' and 'lotus'?" He pointed at a small, nearly negligible tea house tucked between two much larger shops. "The same characters from those flyers!" Without waiting for Aang to respond, Sokka dragged him out of the alley and into the bustling street.

"It could be a coincidence, Sokka… We could be looking too hard, trying to make something of—Sokka!" Aang jogged to catch up with the elder teen who was already pushing aside the curtain in the doorway to look inside the hazy shop. It was dark, but clearly filled with an older crowd of smoking pai sho players.

Aang's brow furrowed as he exchanged a glance with Sokka. "Think this might be the place?"

The man by the counter gave them a sweeping glance, apparently trying to determine whether they were anything to worry about. Sokka nodded very slightly. "I'm… inclined to think so."

Without warning, one of the older patrons approached Aang with a kind smile. "Are you boys looking for anything?"

"Ah," Aang began, but Sokka cut him off immediately.

"Just a cup of tea and a good game of pai sho. My friend here," At this, he nudged Aang, "hasn't had someone to play in a while."

The dirty glare the monk shot him was lost in the man's apparent excitement. "Then you've come to the right place." He pushed Sokka toward the counter, and tugged Aang to a nearby table. "I don't imagine you have pieces of your own?" His eyebrow raised, seating himself across from him.

Aang shook his head silently, trying to catch his mind up to the situation.

"No matter, then. Your friend will get you some tea, and we'll play." He pushed a small satin bag of pai sho pieces toward the pale teen, who took them hesitantly.

"I haven't played in, er, quite a long time." He took out a small assortment of pieces, delicately trying to remember which piece Gyatso traditionally started with. Invariably, whenever Gyatso played Aang the boy lost miserably, but learned the game well.

"That's fine." Though their entrance had seemed unnoticed by most of the tea house patrons, Aang had a prickling feeling on his neck that they were all carefully observing both he and Sokka. The man who had challenged him in pai sho seemed to be carefully examining him for some sort of sign, and Aang was already certain that he and Sokka had found luck a second time and unearthed some sort of connection to the group they had been seeking.

Finally, he settled on a passively defensive piece and set it down on the board. His choice seemed to surprise the man, who laughed heartily.

"Interesting choice, young man. Who in the world taught you to open with a _yin_ piece?" Aang didn't respond, but the man chuckled and opened his turn with a strong _yang_ piece.

The game progressed slowly, hardly the quick pace Aang was used to with his old teacher. It was as though the players were cautiously feeling one another out. Sokka had been distracted at the counter by a man with whom he was talking guardedly about combat techniques.

It was only when Aang finally gained the upper hand in his game that he looked up and found that the tea house had emptied of over half its patrons. A silent signal had seemingly gone out that he and Sokka had clearly missed, and he started to apologize and push back his seat.

"I had no idea it was so late that the shop was closing," He bowed. "I do apologize for keeping you so long."

The man reached over the table and smiled. "No, no. Sit down. We're going to be having a bit of a, er, gathering here in a little bit." He winked at him and set out his white lotus piece.

Aang's heart stopped for a moment before restarting at double its typical pace. The design of the lotus tile was nearly identical to the one Gyatso had used; to the one he had seen on the flyers. He was being tested.

His heart pumped adrenaline into his veins, and he felt briefly worried about what might happen if he did not manage to prove their trustworthiness, for he was being tested for the both of them. Slowly, he examined his remaining tiles before carefully meeting his opponent's eyes as he neatly set his tile on the board, decorated with the dizzying design of a two creatures swirling around one another: the dragon and the phoenix, the seal of the Imperial Heaven.

The man laughed loudly, and Aang felt the rush drain from his veins. He stood and removed the curtain from the door, soundly closing and bolting it to show the shop was no longer open for the day. Sokka's conversation was broken similarly as his companion shuttered the few windows afforded to the shop before waving him to follow with a gnarled hand. Aang caught up to Sokka, slowing his breathing.

"What did you do?" Sokka whispered, carefully watching his steps and taking in the room they had been led into.

"I played the Imperial Heaven tile against the white lotus tile." Aang told him simply, trying to ignore the baffled expression which crossed Sokka's face.

"_What does that mean_?" Sokka demanded, keeping his voice to a whisper as more and more people filed into the room.

"The white lotus tile is the symbol of purity and resolve in hardship. The Imperial Heaven tile is designed with the dragon and the phoenix, _yin_ and _yang_ in pefect balance," Aang didn't know 

how to properly explain the tiles, even though their meanings in the game had nothing to do with why they had been played. "It was sort of like we were… talking through the pieces."

"Then it didn't matter that they're the same symbols as were used on those flyers?" Sokka murmured.

"Er, well, I did take that into account," Aang admitted. "But it wasn't the reason at the moment."

Aang's pai sho opponent smiled warmly as he approached them, interrupting the conversation. "Quite simply, the white lotus was my question to the two of you, and your friend here answered rather emphatically with the Imperial Heaven tile."

Sokka shook his head. "I don't understand."

The group seemed to be settling around the room in various chairs, and Sokka's companion finally approached. "It's alright, Sokka. Pai sho doesn't make much sense to me, either."

The other man smiled. "Pai sho is the oldest form of communication between spies, Bai."

Staring at his feet, Aang mumbled something incoherent before allowing himself to finally sit.

Finally, once the room seemed to have settled into some order, Bai addressed them all. "We have guests tonight," He smiled apologetically at Sokka before pressing on. "One of whom has come a long way from the South Pole."

Sokka gaped. "How does he know?" He hissed to Aang, who only shook his head silently.

"The powers of deduction," Bai answered smoothly. "You're clearly Water Tribe."

Flushing, Sokka turned his head down, recalling the scornful way Suki had called out his heritage and their recent history. Aang quietly reminded him that it was probably best for the group to immediately know the purpose for their visit to the Fire Nation. He nodded very slowly before rising to his feet.

"Chief Hakoda is my father," Sokka announced, praying to some unknown power that he was not making a mistake in placing his trust in these men. "My sister is to marry Crown Prince Zuko."

"Are you here for the wedding?" Bai interrupted suddenly, and Sokka started.

"What?"

"The wedding. It's in a few days' time. The whole city has been getting ready for it for the better part of a month."

The words hung in the air like heavy weight as Sokka struggled to answer, slowly sinking back into the chair. "Already?" He whispered, desperately ticking off time in his head. Katara would have been of age for some time already, but further diplomatic bargaining had been ongoing since she had left for the Fire Nation.

"Then I suppose you aren't here to wish your sister a pleasant marriage." It wasn't a question, and neither Aang nor Sokka were completely sure who had spoken the words.

"No…" Sokka murmured. "No, we came to… to rescue her."

A low murmur passed around the room, and Aang felt uneasy. "Sokka, I don't… know that this is a good idea." He wasn't entirely sure that a room full of Fire Nation citizens was the best place to announce their plans to abduct the future wife of the Crown Prince.

A man from the shadows stood and held up a silencing hand. "The wedding has been widely disputed by many Fire Nation citizens who feel marrying a Water Tribe girl, whether for diplomatic reasons or not, is ill-advised." He stepped into the light where everyone could see him clearly. "However, I doubt very many people would defy their Fire Lord and help you."

Swallowing a hard lump in his throat, Aang dared to speak. "I hardly believe that this gathering is entirely on par with the Fire Lord's will."

The room was silent for a long moment, before the silence was broken with the roars of laughter that reverberated throughout the room.

Bai wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. "No, no. We certainly are not following the will of the Fire Lord."

"Then tell us what you're doing and we'll explain ourselves." Aang reasoned, fighting to keep a calm air to his voice.

Chuckling softly, the man from the shadows bowed to both Aang and Sokka. "We don't dare give ourselves a name, but our purpose is to restore the Fire Nation to its proper glory. Fire Lord Ozai has stripped our glorious homeland of its cultural diversity, perpetuated a century's worth of terror around the world, and tarnished the Fire Nation's honor."

Sokka pulled out one of the flyers he had brought with them, decorated with a protest against musical restrictions. "Is this… yours?"

Bai took it carefully, examining it with a faint smile. "Ah, one of the lady's protests," He smiled warmly. "I don't suppose you figured out the code for our meeting, did you?" His eyebrow cocked carefully.

Aang looked pensieve for a moment. "Does it have anything to do with the strokes in the characters? We managed to stumble on this place by accident."

A nod, before the man who had played pai sho with Aang took the flyer with a smile. "Ling Kai was the one who wrote this flyer… She isn't here tonight," He glanced around the room. "This isn't a particularly… important meeting, though it may have some interest to you." He looked pointedly at Sokka, who swallowed.

"Why?"

"Because the Fire Lord has been strangely complacent with Fire Nation marriage tradition with his son. We planned to discuss potential reasons for this display of… unusual behavior."

Sokka looked stunned at these words. "What… what can I do?" He whispered. "I don't want Katara to marry the man who destroyed our village and I _don't_ want anything to happen to the prisoners they took after the war."

"The men of the Southern Water Tribe?" A voice called across the room for clarification.

"Not all, but… most of our warriors."

This caused a sudden wave of murmuring across the room, which grew in volume, conversations building on another until a dull roar filled the room.

A few carefully aimed fireballs silenced the group. Bai nodded at the pair of them. "We'll arrange accommodation for the pair of you, and we have some connections higher up in the aristocracy. Give us a few days and we should be able to gather information. It will just… have to be done quickly," He looked across the room, a benevolent yet commanding smile on his face. "And it will be."

The meeting lasted no more than an hour after that before Aang and Sokka were led out of the darkened shop and into the night. Bai had volunteered his home for their shelter, and it was only after he led them through a hopelessly twisted path that he finally stopped and faced the pair.

"We are more than happy to help you if, and only if, you are willing to surrender your secrets to us," He stared each of them in the eye. "What happened in the meeting tonight was unusual as newcomers are rare. We must be guarded with our identities, never letting even our comrades know our true names. It is truly amazing that a pair of teenagers could even fathom to find our meetinghouse, let alone gain the trust of one of the most hunted and paranoid groups in the Fire Nation."

Aang ground his toe into the dust, his heart pounding as "Bai" pressed on. "You must understand, then, why I might want to know more about you than you have already let on. Proof of _your_ heritage," At this he looked pointedly at Sokka before flicking his eyes to Aang, "and for _you_ to answer me honestly when I ask who you are and why you've come to the Fire Nation to save the bride of Prince Zuko."

"I… don't know how to prove myself," Sokka mumbled. He had left much of his Water Tribe clothing with his father, and carried little in the way of weaponry. He reached down and pulled his boomerang out of his boot, offering it carefully to the Fire Nation man. "Except perhaps this. It was made for my father when he was young, before he was made Chief."

This answer seemed sufficient before Bai turned to Aang. "And you?"

Hesitating a moment for what he knew could be a very foolish mistake, he slid one of the bracers off his arm, flashing a blue arrow before quickly covering it again. "My name is Aang," Was all he managed, hoping the man might connect the arrows to the air nomads and their famous tattooing tradition.

Bai did not seem to recognize the tattoos, but in the dim light of the streetlamps he had caught a glimpse of the pale scar tissue that littered Aang's body and seized the teen's arm back, pulling off each bracer in surprise. "Who did…" He began, trailing off as he realized the scars were not so much random inflictions of pain as much as intricate patterns. Just as quickly as he had seized Aang, he shoved the arm covers back over his forearms and hands. "Don't let anyone else see those if you want to stay alive and free of prison."

That seemed to be all he intended to say for the time being, leading them directly to his house and hurrying them inside. Finally, when he appeared assured of their absolute privacy, he relaxed very slightly but did not turn to face them as he had before.

"Are you planning on using this rescue mission as a foolhardy way of announcing yourself to the world, Avatar?"

Aang was so surprised by the question that he stumbled over his words for a moment before speaking. "No. No, of course not."

"Then why are you here?" Finally, Bai turned, his face drained of color. "In the one place in the world where you are most likely to be killed on the spot; where even the youngest of children would be more likely to destroy you than help you."

"He's helping me!" Sokka interjected, voice rising to hide the panic he felt. "He's helping me find my sister and the Water Tribe warriors and to establish contact on behalf of a rebel group in the Earth Kingdom."

"Do either of you have _any idea_ what sort of danger the Avatar is in by simply being alive? Your people, Sokka, were nearly wiped out in an effort to find the next Avatar, and here he is."

"How did you know?" Aang asked quietly, self-consciously pulling his fists closer to his sides.

"The powers of deduction," Bai struggled to manage a wry smile, but failed and let his expression slip into a grimace. "It doesn't matter. You very clearly wear the symbol of the Avatar scarred on each of your hands, never mind the arrows reserved for airbending masters."

Aang steeled his resolve and planted his feet firmly. "Are you going to turn me over to the Fire Lord?"

There was a long silence, and Bai lowered himself into a nearby chair. "My true name is Li Q'in," He looked between the two boys before lowering his face. "And if I were to turn either of you over to the Fire Lord or his agents, with my name you would have the power to destroy me as well."

Aang bowed deeply. "Ba—Q'in," He stumbled over the name, unsure how to address him. "I… will at least pledge myself to your cause, that I may never betray the trust you have shown me."

Q'in shook his head firmly. "No. Don't pledge yourself to anything but the restoration of the world. We will take care of the Fire Nation in the same way we have been for all this time. People here only know what the Fire Lord lets them know, and unless someone shows them the truth, they will never be able to change. It is your duty to restore the balance of the world, and ours is to make it easier for you."

The remainder of the evening was short before the trio finally went to bed, silently acknowledging the coming storm. Though they hadn't thought about it before, Aang and Sokka considered the possibility that Aang's involvement in Katara's rescue would reveal the Avatar to the world, something they each were hesitant to allow.

Finally, frustrated with insomnia, Sokka rolled over on his futon to face Aang. "Aang? Are you awake?" He whispered soft enough that if the air monk really were asleep the words wouldn't rouse him, but loud enough that he might be heard.

Aang rolled onto his back. "Yeah, I… can't sleep."

"Are you worried about what Q'in said?"

Swallowing the knot which had been tightening in his throat, Aang nodded numbly. "I can't stop thinking about it… and your sister's wedding is so soon that I'm not sure we can manage… anything except seeing to it that everyone knows I'm alive."

Sokka sat up, frowning. "I thought about that, too," He pulled his knees in tight to his chest. "The Water Tribe warriors are supposed to be released after Katara's wedding, but I don't think we can wait that long. After the wedding, they'll be in a hurry to consummate it and we won't get a chance to do anything about it," He shook his head. "No matter how much I turn it over in my head, I don't know how to have both their release and Katara's freedom."

His mood hung heavily in the air as Aang struggled with himself. Finally, he crawled out from underneath his blankets and managed a smile for Sokka. "I don't really have any great wisdom I can offer, just words I've been told and fragments of thought that I have."

Sokka couldn't help it, he laughed loudly at the statement. "That's not very comforting."

The smile on Aang's face didn't falter once as he pressed on. "All I can suggest is that we not worry about the _how_ so much. We know _why_ we're doing this and we have the will to do it. If it's meant to happen, we'll make it happen. In the meantime, we have allies who can help us."

Raising an eyebrow carefully, Sokka took an appraising look of the air monk. "You know, you don't seem like it offhand, but you've got some wisdom in you."

Aang managed not to look insulted as he settled into his futon again, Sokka's concerns alleviated.

The warrior lay back down, slowing his breathing and falling into somnolence. It was only as a brief flash just before he fell asleep that he noticed that Aang's breathing was still unregulated and realized that he didn't know why Aang hadn't been sleeping.

**End Chapter Six**


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